Cheers
by Charmed-13
Summary: Three strangers meet by chance, and they end up talking about the one thing that binds them together. Where does it go from there? [It's done, it's done! Chapters 18-22 posted]
1. Of Beer and Good Impressions

**Summary: Three strangers meet by chance, and they end up talking about the one thing that binds them together. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line. **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 1: Of Beer and Good Impressions**

The bar was unusually quiet for a Friday night – too quiet, perhaps. But no one seemed to mind, least of all the young man slumped over the counter, head resting on his arm, a half-finished beer resting beside him. Straightening up again, he took another disheartened gulp of his drink before looking around the room indifferently. Finishing the remainder of the amber-colored liquid, he smiled crookedly. "Fill 'er up, Dave." 

"That's the fourth one you've had in one night," Dave the barman pointed out, his concern hidden behind the casual tone of his voice. "How about calling it a night?" He scrutinized the young man seated in front of him. His patron waved a hand dismissively, his coffee brown eyes dull.

"One more," the young man said, his words leaving no room for argument. Shaking his head, Dave retrieved the mug and refilled it, but he couldn't help wondering what had happened to make the young man so unhappy. On any other day, he would have been his usual wry, cynical self, regaling Dave with tales of how messed up life was in general, but tonight… 

Taking in the man's disheveled dark curly hair and unshaven jaw, Dave leaned against the counter. "Want to talk about it?"

Hearing this, Jess Mariano lifted his head briefly, but then he shook his head. "It's nothing you want to hear, believe me." 

"Go ahead," Dave raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly as he did. "Give it a shot." When Jess lapsed into a moody silence, Dave soldiered on. "Let me guess. Women problems?"

"Ding ding ding, somebody get the man a trophy!" Jess smiled sardonically, his eyes bitter. "You are a true genius, my man." He sighed heavily, dropping his gaze to his hands.

"Okay," Dave continued, hoping to prod Jess into talking again. "So it's about a woman, and you're really bummed out…" Dave frowned. "What, did she break it off with you or something?" 

Jess snorted. "Not even close." 

"You're going to have to help me out here, Jess," Dave said, scratching his head. "I'm going on zilch information, may I remind you." 

"Okay," Jess finally muttered unwillingly. "It's this girl I know–"

"Oh, it's that Gilmore girl you keep talking about, huh?" Dave interrupted, understanding creeping across his face. 

Jess glared at him. "Do you want me to tell you about it or not?" 

"Sorry." 

"Anyway," Jess continued, tearing at the paper napkin in his hand. "I moved to Stars Hollow a couple of years ago. My mom had just crated me off to live with my uncle Luke, and he decided that it was in my best interests that we go have dinner at his friend Lorelai Gilmore's place – something about meeting new people or making a good impression, somewhere along those lines, anyway. In any case, that was the day I met Rory." He paused to take another gulp of his drink. "Of course, she was seeing someone else at the time, some beanpole who worked as a bag boy in town. I even went to the same high school as him." 

"Competition, huh?" Dave smiled knowingly. 

"Yeah," Jess nodded tersely. "Man, was that guy insecure. Couldn't even stand seeing me anywhere within a mile of his precious girlfriend! Geez, that guy had issues." 

"But I take it the guy was justified in being – worried?" Dave suggested, choosing his words carefully. 

"Yeah," Jess tilted his head, the expression on his face contemplative. "I guess he was. There was just something about her…" He broke off, looking almost embarrassed. 

"Isn't that always the case?" Dave joked, shaking his head. 

"I suppose so," Jess grinned slightly as he shifted in his seat. "You wouldn't happen to have any pretzels or something, would you?" 

Reaching beneath the counter, Dave extracted a package and placed it in front of his customer. "Here." 

Jess frowned at the sealed bag before glancing up. "How come you don't put these in bowls?" 

"What does this place look like, a five-star hotel?" Dave grumbled, picking up a cloth and wiping down the counter. "Just eat them already. So what happened with Rory?" 

Shrugging, Jess ripped the bag open and popped one of the salty pretzels into his mouth. "She was smart, she was sweet, she was funny, she was pretty – I'm telling you, she was everything any guy could possibly want." Inwardly, he winced at the sentimentality in his words, but he was too tired to give a damn.  

"Sounds like you had it bad for her," Dave commented lightly. 

"I did," Jess admitted reluctantly. "But I don't know, she was a little…oblivious. She needed a few nudges to help her see the light of day, if you get what I mean." He smiled understatedly. "You see, I was what everyone referred to as the resident trouble-maker, but Rory – she stuck up for me, never saw anything but the good in me. That didn't go over very well with her mom, her boyfriend, almost everyone else in town. It was like I was intruding on this perfect little fairytale existence everyone had set up for Rory. Everyone was so caught up in thinking I was this scheming little weasel who only wanted to steal Rory away and wreck her Ivy League dreams. God, that pissed me off!" Irate, Jess snatched up his drink and tossed it back.

"What then?" Dave pressed on, curious despite himself. 

"It seemed that my friendship was exactly what Rory needed to unleash the rebel within," Jess noted, shrugging carelessly. "The more people trashed me, the more worked up she got, and apparently, that sort of behavior wasn't the sort of thing Stars Hollow expected from someone like Rory. And they blamed me for it. I was the _bad influence_." He wiped his fingers on the shredded napkin. "One thing led to another, and I ended up in New York for a little time-out, courtesy of my uncle."

"Let me guess," Dave broke in. "She came after you." 

"Something like that," Jess nodded indifferently. "Made me realize that no matter what I did, I was still going to get dumped on for causing Rory to act 'out of character'." There was another bitter grin. "Did I tell you she missed her mom's graduation because of me?" 

"Wow." Dave stared at Jess. "So it looked like she liked you too. What was the problem, then?" 

"Remember that thing I told you about how everyone in Stars Hollow wanted Rory to live out this perfect life?" Jess shrugged again. "I figured the more she hung around me, the more upset everyone would get. So that was it." His lips formed a crooked smile. "We still hung out, but not as often as we did before. I'm pretty sure her boyfriend was grateful for that, you know – that I did the gentlemanly thing and backed off." He smiled wearily. "Man, that was years ago." Noticing his empty mug, he pushed it forward. "One more for the road, Dave." 

"Jess…" Dave said warningly, but a new voice cut across the conversation. 

"One more for the man, Dave," the stranger said, shrugging off his coat as he sat down beside Jess. "On me." 

Turning around, Jess was about to thank his mysterious benefactor, when he felt his jaw drop. The stranger merely smiled with amusement, watching as Jess struggled to find his voice. 

Finally, Jess recovered. "What – what are you doing here?" 

*

**To Be Continued…**


	2. It's A Small World After All

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line. **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 2: It's A Small World After All**

"What are you doing here?" 

Hearing this, Dean smiled with amusement. Never before had he seen the normally unflappable Jess so flabbergasted, and to be honest, he found it kind of funny. But he didn't say anything, choosing instead to turn his attention to his old friend behind the counter. "Hey, Dave. I'll have the usual." 

"Coming right up," Dave nodded, moving away to grab a mug, leaving Jess to stare at Dean.

"Since when do you come in here?" Jess asked, his voice suspicious as he looked the tall young man up and down, summing him up, trying to figure out his reasons for being there. 

Dean shrugged casually as he accepted the tall, frothy mug of beer Dave slid his way. "I come in here all the time. Don't I, Dave?" 

"I can vouch for that." Shifting his gaze from Jess to Dean, Dave's eyebrows quirked. "You never told me you two knew each other." 

"You never asked," Dean smiled, glancing at Jess. 

"And I never thought I'd see _you_ again," Jess frowned, popping another pretzel in his mouth. He pushed the opened bag toward Dean, who accepted it with a nod. "So back to my question. What're you doing here?" 

"The same reason you are," Dean replied simply, and Jess smiled, knowing he didn't need any further explanations. 

Jess grinned and turned to Dave. "Remember the guy I was talking about a minute ago – the guy with all the issues?" When Dave nodded, Jess couldn't help smirking. "Well, here he is, in the flesh. How's that for irony, huh?" 

A look of perplexity crossed Dean's face. "Dare I even ask why you two were talking about me?" 

"Oh, sure," Dave laughed. "Jess and I were having a little man-to-man talk, you know, the usual stuff – women troubles, one in particular…" 

"Ah, of course," Dean smiled meaningfully. "Rory." Sighing, he reached for his beer again. 

"Oh, wait a second," Dave grinned. "Don't tell me – you've got the blues too, huh?" 

Dean nodded, managing to look embarrassed, doleful and resigned all at once. Seeing the younger man's reaction, Dave smiled. 

"Man, I have got to meet this girl," the barman shook his head. "She must be one helluva woman to have affected you both like this." 

"Oh yeah, she is," Jess said, sharing a conspiring grin with Dean. 

"She is," Dean echoed, his voice wistful and affectionate as a half-buried memory of a certain blue-eyed brunette flickered across his mind. He sighed. "She really is." 

Dave smiled again. "So, what's your story, Dean?" 

"My story?" Dean glanced up. 

"Yeah," Jess said, tilting his head as he studied his beer. "I've already told Dave all about how we hated each other's guts back when we were sixteen, so now's your chance to tell him your side of the story." 

"Hell, why not?" Dean exhaled. "Let's see…" He paused for a moment as he struggled to remember. "I moved to Stars Hollow from Chicago when I was sixteen, and I met Rory in high school. That is, before she got into that snooty rich school." 

"Chilton Prep," Jess offered, for Dave's benefit. 

"That's right," Dean nodded absently. "Anyway, we started going out." 

Dave looked at Dean expectantly. "And?" 

"We dated, we had our ups and downs," Dean continued before shooting a knowing look in Jess's direction. "And I had a tough time beating down the competition." 

Jess grinned. "Oh, yeah. I seem to recall a certain incident at this basket-buying fundraiser a couple of years ago…" 

"Of course," Dean chuckled. "That was quite a day, huh?" 

"Care to share?" Dave asked. "I'm a little lost here." 

"Well," Jess said, resting his elbows on the counter. "Stars Hollow is one of those small little towns with all sorts of weird traditions, and the _Bid on a Basket_ Fundraiser is no exception." 

"Yeah," Dean nodded, grinning. "The women in the town are supposed to put together these food baskets, and later on, the men are supposed to bid on them. Whoever with the highest offer wins." 

"And when Rory's basket came on, I decided to give Dean a run for his money," Jess continued, pausing to slap Dean on the shoulder. 

"So who got the basket?" Dave inquired. 

"Jess did," Dean smirked. "For the grand total of ninety dollars." 

"Ninety dollars," Jess confirmed, unable to keep the grin from his face. "I paid ninety dollars for some leftovers." 

Dave guffawed. "You're kidding me." 

"I'm not," Jess assured the older man, his eyes twinkling. "But the whole thing was kind of funny, actually." He turned to Dean. "You should've seen your face, man. Fourteen shades of purple." 

"What can I say?" Dean shrugged philosophically. "I was sixteen, and madly in love with Rory Gilmore." He laughed quietly. "Plus, I hated you with a passion. You home wrecker." But there was no real malice in his words – any hatred he had once borne toward the other man had faded away with time, and now he looked upon those days only with fondness and slight regret. 

"I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time, dude," Jess said, his face growing serious. 

"No problem," Dean smiled slightly. "We were kids."

A wry grin twisted Jess's lips. "Yeah, messed up ones at that." 

"Hey, speak for yourself," Dean teased, punching Jess's arm lightly. "How about another round, Dave?" 

"Sure thing," Dave nodded distractedly, refilling both mugs. "So tell me, what happened to Rory Gilmore?" 

Before the other two could answer though, a deep voice spoke up from behind them. "Oh, I can answer that one for you." Instantly, the three men turned to look at the stranger who had just entered the bar. Jess looked on with confusion as recognition flashed in Dean's eyes. 

It was Dean who eventually broke the momentary silence. "Oh, you have _got _to be kidding me."

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	3. First Loves, Accountants, and Twists of ...

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line. **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 3: First Loves, Accountants and Twists of Fate**

"Nice to see you too – Bag Boy." 

Tristan DuGrey smiled as he took his place at the bar, openly enjoying the seething expression on his former rival's face. He nodded at the barman. "What's up, Dave?" 

"I'm doing good," Dave grinned at the newcomer. "The usual, I suppose?" 

"You got it," Tristan nodded. He turned to look at his companions, resting his gaze curiously on Jess. "And you are…?" 

"Jess Mariano," Jess said, offering the blond man his hand. 

"Tristan DuGrey," Tristan replied, gripping Jess's hand in a firm shake. He smirked at Dean. "So, Dean, how've you been?" 

"Just peachy," Dean muttered sulkily, hands tightening on the mug in front of him. He looked warily at the man sitting beside him. "Mind telling me what you're doing here?" 

"Touchy, touchy," Tristan remarked lightly, his voice mocking as he took the drink Dave placed in front of him. "Is that really any way to greet an old friend, Dean?" 

"Okay, can you be any more cryptic?" Jess said, raising his eyebrows. "Someone care to enlighten Dave and me here?" 

"Dean and I go way back," Tristan's lips quirked in a grin as he looked slyly at the other man. 

"He was the jackass who gave Rory a tough time when she first transferred to Chilton," Dean explained, casting a glare at Tristan. 

"Oh, come now," Tristan said reproachfully, although his eyes were brimming with laughter. "There's no need for name-calling here, is there?" 

"Nice to see you're as much of a pain in the ass as you were back then," Dean retorted, munching wrathfully on another pretzel.

Tristan laughed. "Look, it's obvious we're here for the same reason." 

"Let me guess," Dave said, struggling to keep his amusement in check. "Rory Gilmore?" 

Hearing the familiar name, Tristan blinked with astonishment. "What are you, a mind reader?" 

"Not quite," Dave smiled. "It's just that her name seems to be popping up an awful lot of times tonight." 

"Hang on a minute," Jess stared at Tristan doubtfully. "You mean to say you had it bad for Rory too?" 

"Too?" Tristan raised his eyebrows. "What is this – some sort of secret Rory Gilmore support group or something?" 

"Bright boy," Dean said, giving Tristan a sidelong glance. "You nailed it on the first attempt." 

"Great," Tristan shook his head, disbelief lingering in his eyes. "There are dozens of other bars in this city, and I have to pick this one. It's like the Twilight Zone episode from hell." 

Dean snorted. "Which is only fitting, seeing how you're the spawn of Satan and all." 

"Cute, Bag Boy," Tristan said, his tone withering. "Real cute." 

"So, Tristan," Jess cut in diplomatically, "what's your story?" 

Tristan frowned. "Excuse me?" 

"So far, everyone who's come in here has had some story or other about Rory Gilmore," Dave explained. "What's yours?" 

For the first time since he'd sat down, Tristan looked uncomfortable. "There's nothing to talk about." 

"Oh, come on, DuGrey," Dean said. "Jess and I have had our turn. Now it's yours." 

Tristan hesitated. "Well…" 

"Spill the beans, and the next round of beer is on me," Dean grinned, knowing full well the man wouldn't say no. 

It worked like a charm. "Well, when you put it that way…" Tristan paused for a moment. "I met Rory the first day of my sophomore year at Chilton. She was the new girl, and I was the kingpin." 

"So modest," Dean quipped, rolling his eyes. 

"Anyhow," Tristan continued, pointedly ignoring Dean's wisecrack. "I came into class late that day, I remember that." A pensive smile touched his lips for a fleeting moment. "She was sitting there, looking so out of place, so damn naïve, it was kind of hard to miss her among all those other students." 

"It's kind of hard to miss her, period," Dean corrected, looking unusually serious. 

"You're right," Tristan nodded solemnly. "She just…stood out. And I thought, hell, here's another prospective conquest – another possible notch in my belt. But of course, it never turned out that way."  He looked down. 

"Keep talking," Jess ordered, his beer temporarily forgotten. 

"I thought she wasn't any different from the others, so I treated her the way I would any other girl," Tristan went on. "But I found out soon enough that I was wrong. She wasn't – she _isn't_ – like any other girl I've ever met. And that threw me for a loop." He grabbed a pretzel, and his brow furrowed with frustration as the memories came flooding back. "I flirt with her, and I get no reaction. Au contraire, she shoots me this disdainful look and throws a comeback at me." 

"So you finally met your match," Jess supplied, and Tristan nodded. 

"I just didn't get it, you know?" Tristan ran a hand through his already tousled hair. "Any other girl would've fallen at my feet if I so much as looked her way. Any other girl would've blushed and giggled like crazy if I actually bothered to even say hi." 

"But you forget," Dean said, pushing the half-empty bag of pretzels toward Tristan. "Rory's not just any girl." 

"Right again, my friend," Tristan conceded, absently selecting another salty cracker. "Rory's…special." Bitterness flickered in his stormy blue eyes. "But of course, I never got the chance to tell her that. She was too damn preoccupied with you, Bag Boy." He smiled ruefully at Dean. 

"So what happened next?" Dave questioned. 

"Let me see," Tristan swirled his drink around in his mug. "Whatever it was I did, she always shot me down. She acted like she hated me, like she couldn't stand even talking to me. But I suppose it was my own fault." He sighed deeply. "Every time I tried to be sincere, she always thought I was just fooling around. Like she thought I wasn't the sort of person who could change, who could be something other than shallow." He shook his head. "I tried, you know. But she never even gave me half a chance." 

"Yeah well," Dean said, awkwardly trying to console the dejected young man sitting next to him. "You know what they say – it's always your first love that hits you the hardest." 

"Damn right it is," Tristan grunted, finishing up his drink. He was silent for a moment. "You know, I kept trying to get her to like me – I tried so damn hard, no matter how many times she pushed me away. And that night at Madeline's party, I honestly thought we'd finally gotten somewhere." 

"Madeline?" Jess's ears perked up. "Who's Madeline?" 

"This girl who used to be Tristan and Rory's class mate," Dean clarified, and Tristan nodded. 

"Madeline threw this huge party at her house the night after Dean and Rory first broke up," Tristan said. "It was the setting for my humiliating break up with Summer, the girl I was briefly dating." He looked down. "But that night also brought me my first kiss with Rory. And that made up for all the crummy things I had to put up with along the way." Sighing, Tristan closed his eyes. "In the middle of all the shit that happened, I had this one perfect moment with the girl I loved. And I couldn't have asked for more." 

"But?" Dave prompted. 

"She was still hung up over Dean," Tristan smiled wryly. "It seemed that I was just the thing Rory needed to make her realize how traumatized she was over the break up. So she started crying and ran out on me. Not exactly the sort of reaction I was expecting, but well…" He shrugged. "It was better than nothing." He paused. "Hey, remember that night at the Winter Formal?" 

"Oh yeah," Dean grinned, despite himself. He turned to Dave and Jess. "That was some time after Rory and I started dating. And it was the first time Tristan and I ever met. I'd say it was a rousing success, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, definitely," Tristan joked. "You basically said I looked like an accountant, and we came this close to having a fistfight right there in the middle of the dance." 

Jess burst into laughter. "An accountant?" 

"He was wearing a tie, for God's sake!" Dean pointed out, grinning. "Who the hell can act tough when they're wearing a _tie_?" 

"Give me a break, man," Tristan said, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. "I was a kid." 

"A smart assed, stuck up, obnoxious one at that," Dean added mercilessly. 

"Yeah, yeah," Tristan waved Dean's words away. "But at least I wasn't the one who was stupid enough to let her go over something as trivial as a little fight." He turned to Jess and Dave. "Dean here broke up with Rory three months into their relationship, because she wasn't ready to say _I love you_. If that wasn't a first-rate example of supreme idiocy, then I don't know what is."  

"It's like you said, DuGrey," Dean said, his face growing thoughtful. "I was a kid." 

"Hell," Jess said, sighing. "We all were." 

"You speak the truth, Mariano," Tristan smiled tiredly. A temporary lull fell over the group, and Dave took the opportunity to replenish everyone's drinks. 

"Just off the record, what twist of fate brought the three of you here on the same night, at the same time?" Dave asked, shifting his eyes from Jess to Dean to Tristan. 

Tristan turned to look at Jess and Dean. "You mean to say you didn't tell him?" 

"No," Jess shrugged, looking somewhat discomfited. "We, uh, kind of got carried away with all the story-telling."

"It figures," Tristan muttered, shaking his head. 

"So?" Dave prodded. "What mysterious occurrence propelled the three of you into my humble bar tonight?" 

"You really want to know?" Dean asked. He waited for Dave to nod before exchanging glances with Jess and Tristan. "Then you'd better sit down. It's going to be a long night." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	4. History Lessons and The Big Surprise

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing that's mine is the story line. And Dave. And the bar. And the beer. And the pretzels, let's not forget the pretzels!**

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 4: History Lessons and The Big Surprise**

"No, no, no! That's too confusing!" 

"It is _not_!" 

"Will you two just forget it already? Geez, we've been over this a hundred times now!"

"Okay, let's try it again. Slower this time." 

The voices rose and fell, a steady, confusing arc from loud, raised tones to subdued grumblings of dissatisfaction, but Dave paid them no heed. Instead, he looked at Dean. "Let me see. You were Rory's boyfriend – her first, in fact. Right?" 

"Yeah," Dean tossed aside the empty package he'd been absently holding onto for the past few hours. "And we're out of pretzels." 

Sighing heavily, Dave rested against the counter, his temples pounding as he threw another bag of crackers in front of the younger man. His head was reeling in the aftermath of the long, confusing lesson he had just been subjected to, and he had his friends to thank for that. For some reason, the trio were determined to educate the bar man in the tales of their collective pasts – lengthy, intricate stories winding together to form a complex network of friendship, jealousy, heartache and love. It was all too much, really. But Dave had never been a quitter, and he certainly had no intention of becoming one any time soon. So, he struggled on. "Tristan…" 

"Yes?" Tristan focused on the older man, his sapphire blue eyes gleaming with barely-suppressed mirth. 

"You were Rory's classmate sophomore year at Chilton," Dave said, frowning in concentration. "A notorious womanizer, and all-round bad ass." 

"Well, that wouldn't have been my choice of a self-description," Tristan smirked. "But close enough." 

"And Jess," Dave finished up. "Resident misfit of Stars Hollow." He looked impatiently at Dean, Jess and Tristan. "Now somebody tell me why it was necessary for me to put myself through all that torture, because I still don't see the point of my learning by heart the nitty-gritty details of your teenage lives." 

"We already explained it to you," Jess said, grinning. "It'll help you understand everything better later on." 

"And suddenly, the nighttime conversation catapulted from being halfway normal to flat-out bizarre," Dave grumbled, wiping a clean mug with a dishcloth. "Are you _ever_ going to tell me why the three of you wound up here tonight, all at the same time?"     

"Hell, why not?" Tristan shrugged, his face weary, his tone impatient. "Let's cut to the chase already." 

"Great!" Dave smiled expectantly at the trio. "Spill the beans, baby." 

Jess coughed as Dean glanced at Tristan, but none of them said a word. 

Dave cleared his throat. "Okay, someone better start talking soon." 

He watched as the three men in front of him exchanged knowing smiles before shifting in their seats. Another minute went by, then two. Dave crossed his arms. "Right, you guys. Spit it out." 

Still nothing. 

Feeling his impatience starting to mount, Dave frowned. It was clear they enjoyed seeing him squirm like this – they knew they could make him wait all night if they wanted to. Dave's first instinct was to beat them at their own game and hold out, to let them weaken first and confess everything. Eventually though, his traitorous curiosity got the better of him, and he felt his defenses crumbling. "Come on, people! The suspense is killing me here!"

That seemed to rouse them back to life, and Dave looked on with more than a little bewilderment as all three reached for their coats, digging in their pockets as though searching for something. Slowly, deliberately, they each withdrew their hands, simultaneously placing three items on the counter in front of them. 

Dave stared down at the three envelopes. He raised his eyebrows at the others before picking up each one in turn. All of the envelopes were identical, right down to the handwriting scrawled across the front. Carefully, he opened the first envelope, then the second, and then the third. 

Three greeting cards now lay harmlessly on the spotless counter, each embossed with a picture of a rose, along with two sets of initials, stamped in cursive writing. Leaning forward, Dave cautiously picked one up and opened it, skimming quickly over its contents, feeling his eyebrows shoot up. Rereading the delicate lettering, he knew he wouldn't need to look at the other two cards to know that they all said the same thing. 

**_Richard and Emily Gilmore cordially invite you _**

**_To a party celebrating the engagement_**

**_Of their granddaughter _**

**_Lorelai Leigh Gilmore _**

**_To_**

**_Robert Andrew Matheson _**

**_On_**

**_October 8, 20–_**

Startled, Dave looked up, taking in the resigned faces of the young men before him. "Does this mean what I think it means?" 

"Yeah," Dean replied, making a half-hearted attempt to smile. "Rory Gilmore is getting married." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	5. I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blue...

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing that belongs to me is the story line, blah blah blah. **

* 

**Cheers**

**Chapter 5: I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues**

Rory Gilmore was getting married. 

Now _that_ was unexpected. 

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe a small part of Dave subconsciously knew that it would happen, given the gloomy faces and veiled hints he'd been privy to all night. Sure, it had been a no-brainer. There could only have been two endings to the story, after all. Rory Gilmore had either: A) run off with another man, or B) met her tragic, untimely demise at the hands of a demented coffee machine. (And Dave couldn't help smiling at that piece of imagery.) It was cliché, it was predictable. Years of working in a bar had given Dave a lot of experience in this sort of thing. Still, just because he knew what was going to happen didn't make it any less of a shock when he did find out. No amount of intuition could ever get rid of that element of surprise. Life was kind of funny that way. 

Rousing himself from his jumbled thoughts, Dave looked at the young men in front of him. All three of them were staring miserably into their beers, their faces identical masks of tragedy. If it hadn't been for the gravity of the situation, Dave would have probably laughed.  Instead, he decided to try another tack. 

"So," he said, picking up another clean mug, racking his brain for something to say. "Are you going to the party?" 

"I guess so," Dean mumbled. "I can't very well say no, can I?" Turning his head slightly, he looked at Tristan. "What about you?" 

Tristan smiled wryly. "Considering my grandparents made it pretty clear they wouldn't put up with any excuses from me, I think it's safe to say that I'm going." 

"Why would your grandparents care if you go to Rory's engagement party or not?" Jess asked, his curiosity piqued. 

"A twisted sense of responsibility, old chap," Tristan sighed. "Her grandfather and mine have been business partners for years, so for me to back out of this would be nothing short of a sacrilege." There was a derisive smirk. "And the last thing I want to do is blacken the DuGrey family name by not showing up." He glanced at Jess. "You going?" 

"I probably will." Jess tilted his head, tracing patterns on his mug with his fingers. "My uncle's pretty tight with Rory's mom, so it's kind of a given." 

"That's what Rory is, huh?" Dave questioned doubtfully. "An obligation?" 

"No, that's not what I meant!" Jess's eyes flashed, his tone defensive. "It's just that, well…" He broke off, shrugging helplessly. 

Not that Dave needed further explanations, of course. It was clear that all three of them were still very much in love with Rory Gilmore, and to attend the party would undoubtedly rake up some painful, unwanted memories.   

"Look at us," Tristan said unexpectedly, morose. "Three Gilmore rejects, sitting in a row. All dressed up with nowhere to go." He cracked a smile, somewhat amused by his impromptu rhyme. "It's kind of funny, when you think about it." 

"Yeah," Dean rolled his eyes. "A real riot." He paused. "You know something…"

Jess looked over at Dean. "What?"

"I spent so much time worrying she'd end up with Tristan. Or you," Dean said slowly, hesitantly. "I told her to pick one of us, and I wanted her to choose me. Maybe that was my mistake." He was silent for a moment. "Not once did I stop to think that one day, she might end up with someone else."

"Blame it all on the follies of youth," Tristan said, resigned. This was definitely a topic he'd given a lot of thought to. "When you're sixteen, you don't think about the right way to act, the right way to feel. You don't stop to analyse. You just get out there and _live_." He laughed to himself. "And Rory Gilmore certainly made life worth living, didn't she?" 

"Yeah," Jess said softly, wistfully. "She did."   

"I thought that once I grew up and left Stars Hollow, I'd forget about her and move on," Dean said. "Instead, here I am, still as infatuated with her as I was back then." 

"She's just one of those people, I guess," Tristan said, his voice sentimental. "The sort you never forget." 

"The sort you never get over," Jess chipped in. 

"The sort you never stop loving." Dean raised his beer, a small grin on his face. "Here's to Rory Gilmore." 

"To Rory Gilmore," Tristan repeated. 

Jess smiled. "To Rory Gilmore." 

Solemnly, they clinked their mugs together, and Dave watched as they downed their drinks, three men united in their love for the same girl. There was something about that scene, something that made Dave feel as though he were intruding on a moment he had no way of understanding – it was something untainted and enduring, something that went deeper than young love, or jealousy, or unrequited emotions. 

"What time is it?" Jess suddenly asked, shattering Dave's thoughts. 

"Late," Tristan muttered, not bothering to check his watch. 

"Right," Jess nodded. "I've got to get going."

"What, already?" Dean looked surprised. 

"Yeah." Jess smiled apologetically. "I've got work tomorrow. You know how it is. Thanks for everything, Dave." Placing a wad of notes on the counter, he turned back to the other two. "So, I'll see you around, huh?" 

"Guess so," Dean said, nodding to Jess. 

"See you," Tristan added. Watching as Jess walked out of the bar, Tristan looked at Dean and Dave. "You know, I think I should head off as well. Got a big business meeting to attend tomorrow morning, and I don't want to be late." He patted Dean on the shoulder. "See you at the big party?"

"Right on, dude," said Dean. "Bye." 

"So," Dave grinned after Tristan left. "Looks like it's just you and me." 

"Yeah," Dean replied, "but not for long. I've got work tomorrow." Grabbing his coat, he smiled. "See you, Dave. And thanks for listening."

"No problem," Dave said. "Take care of yourself." 

Dean nodded. "You too, man." Giving his friend one last smile, he walked to the exit and disappeared outside, the door swinging shut behind him.  

_Oh well, alone again. _

Whistling, Dave picked up the row of used mugs on the counter and deposited them in the sink, turning the water faucet on full blast. Dimly, he was aware of another person coming in, but he didn't stop to look up, busying himself with washing up instead.  

"Hey Dave," a man walked up to the bar, sitting down in one of the empty seats. "What's a man got to do to get a beer around here?" 

"Coming right up," Dave said distractedly, drying his hands on a towel. Automatically, he reached for a glass, filling it to the rim before sliding it toward the customer. Absently, he retrieved the dishcloth and began to wipe another mug dry, his hands working fast, but his mind drifting elsewhere.  

"Hey man, are you okay?" 

That brought Dave crashing back into reality. He blinked. "Huh? What?" 

The man eyed Dave carefully. "You look like you're a million miles away!" 

"Oh, I'm alright," Dave assured him. "I was just thinking." 

The man looked at him interestedly. "What about?" 

"Oh, something funny happened to me tonight," Dave said, smiling with a little embarrassment. 

"Funny ha-ha, or funny weird?" 

"Funny weird," Dave explained. "But never mind. I won't bore you with the details." 

Christopher Hayden smiled innocently. "No, go on. Tell me." 

Putting the dishcloth on the counter, Dave leaned forward, preparing to rehash the night's events. "It all started when these guys walked into the bar…" 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	6. The Return

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – if I did, I'd be married to Tristan, I'd have Dean as my personal stock boy, and Jess would be the mailman! **

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating – I'm staying at a friend's place for the week, so any updates will take awhile to be posted. Mucho apologies for the inconvenience! **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 6: The Return**

"Hey man, here's your stop." 

The bearded driver turned to look at his passenger, who acknowledged him with a curt nod. He watched as the other man grabbed his things before throwing a smile in his direction. 

"Thanks for the ride." 

"No problem," the balding man responded, touching the tip of his cap with a smile. "See you around, stranger." 

Climbing out, the young man stood by the side of the road, duffel bag at his feet, shading his eyes as he cast his gaze over his surroundings, paying no attention to the van pulling away from the curb just a few inches in front of him. 

Home sweet home. 

Hefting the bag onto his shoulder, he stepped forward, sure, steady. It was all exactly the way he remembered it – the people, the buildings, everything. Off in the corner stood the town gazebo, a little worn, but still standing erect, a testament of times gone by. Ahead of him, he spotted the rows of familiar shops lining the streets; he thought he recognized a few of the people walking to and fro on the sidewalk, the faces of folks he'd known as a youngster. 

He sauntered down the street, unhurried, absorbing the sights, the sounds, all of it bringing forth hazy, long-forgotten recollections from deep within him. 

Stars Hollow. 

It was still every bit as picturesque as it had been all those years ago, as it had been when – in a moment of foolishness and stubborn pride – he'd packed up and left. Pausing, he smiled as Tristan's words floated back to him.

_Blame it all on the follies of youth. _

He kept walking, his mind focused on one thing, his sense of direction leading him to one destination. And there it was, just as it had always been, just as he knew it would always be. He stood there on the street, gripping the strap of his bag, his jaw set, his eyes contemplative as he stared at the sign hanging above the entryway. A smile quirked his lips. 

It had never occurred to anyone to change the sign. 

Squinting, he peered in through the glass windows. His eyes skimmed over the people seated inside, over the tall, burly man carrying plates of food as he weaved in and out of the tables. His search ended when he finally rested his gaze on the two figures at the counter, both so alike in appearance and temperament that they could have easily passed off as sisters. Except they weren't. 

He kept his eyes on the younger of the two women, his heartbeat accelerating at a ridiculous pace. He hadn't seen her for what felt like a lifetime, and now he wanted to be able to study her without being noticed, from where she wouldn't be able to see him. So he did, taking in the sparkle of her deep blue eyes, the irresistible smile, the dimples in her cheeks. His smile softened. 

Rory Gilmore. 

Squaring his shoulders, he shifted his bag, steeling his resolve for what he was about to do next. And this time, he wouldn't turn back, wouldn't chicken out. Grimly, he stepped off the walkway and crossed the road, reaching out a hand to push the door of the diner open. 

The bell on the inside of the door chimed cheerfully, announcing his arrival. He didn't miss the way everyone turned to look at him, didn't miss the way the smile on her face froze, the way her eyes widened with shock. Letting his bag fall to the floor with a dull thud, Jess felt the beginnings of a smirk creeping across his face.

"Hey everyone. I'm home." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	7. Grocery Shopping - With a Twist

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – like millions of other admiring fans, I only wish I did! **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 7: Grocery Shopping – With a Twist**

Milk. Eggs. Bread. 

The cold night breeze blew down the length of the quiet street, and Dean burrowed his hands deeper in his pockets, a frown of concentration creasing his forehead.

Peanut butter. Cereal. 

Orange juice. Tissues. Cooking oil. 

Now, what else was he supposed to get? 

Glancing up to check for oncoming traffic, he crossed the street, walking briskly. It was another beautiful Friday evening in Stars Hollow, the air crisp and cold, and his mother had just sent him out on an errand – they'd run out of a few things, and could he possibly run down to the market to buy some groceries? Dean had been more than happy to oblige. After all, it had been more than six months since he'd last been home, and he'd actually begun to miss all the everyday things he'd always taken for granted before going away to live on his own. He missed his family, he missed doing things like buying groceries for his parents, like listening to his younger sister Clara ramble on about the latest developments in her life, little things like that. 

Looking around him, Dean cast his gaze across the town square. Most of the shops were already closed, with the exception of Luke's Diner and Doose's Market. People still walked about outside in the cold, most likely on their way home. A few teenagers gathered near the town gazebo, their laughter ringing across the still night air, unrestrained, lively. Picking up his pace, Dean headed for the market, mentally running through the list of things he was supposed to get.

Walking into the small market was like taking a step back into the past. Images of days spent standing behind the counter packing groceries and stocking food cans in the shelves suddenly rushed back to him, and Dean couldn't suppress the broad smile tugging at his lips. How strange it was that he could still remember those days so clearly, so _vividly_. 

He could see himself as the tall sixteen-year-old stock boy he'd been back then, uprooted from Chicago and transported to small town Stars Hollow, where everything was picture-perfect, and the residents were downright weird. (Although Rory always insisted they were _special_, not weird. Not that he was about to argue with her on that point, of course.) 

He remembered visits from Rory while he was still on his shifts; he remembered stocking beans as she timidly attempted to talk him into accompanying her to the Chilton school formal, which later turned out to be a night he would never forget. He remembered afternoons spent waiting for her at the bus stop, waiting for her to return from Chilton, waiting every day with a steaming cup of coffee and a report of the latest book she'd successfully coaxed him into reading. 

Seeing his old boss at the counter, Dean walked over. "Hey Taylor." 

"Hello, Dean," the older man beamed, his accounting forgotten. "Haven't seen you here in awhile!" 

"Well, I do recall handing in my apron to you ages ago," Dean kidded, producing a laugh from Taylor. "How've you been?" 

"Me?" Taylor's smile grew wider. "Oh, everything is great! Business is booming! Although," he lowered his voice, and Dean leaned in closer to catch his words, "although I never did manage to find another stock boy half as good as you."

"High praise," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Well, I'm just going to get some stuff, groceries for my mom…" 

"Of course, of course!" Taylor waved him away. "Go right ahead." 

Smiling, Dean ambled around the aisles, a little surprised to discover the layout of the market was exactly the same as it had been when he'd worked there. And for some reason, it heartened him to see that at least _some_ things hadn't changed in his absence. Humming to himself, Dean bent his head and began to inspect the products stacked neatly on the shelf in front of him. 

Milk. Eggs. Bread. 

Peanut butter. 

Cereal. 

Walking to the next aisle, he began to sort through the jars of peanut butter, picking one up and carrying it with him. 

Orange juice. 

Tissues. 

Cooking oil–

"Oof!" 

Startled, Dean looked up, shifting his gaze from the bottle of aspirin he'd been holding and to the person he'd inadvertently bumped into. "Oh, I'm so–" But words failed him when he found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes – a pair of achingly _familiar_ blue eyes. He gulped. 

Rory looked up at him, the expression in her bright sapphire eyes clearly torn between merriment and shock. "Dean! What a coincidence." 

"Rory," Dean finally managed to say. "Fancy meeting you here." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	8. And You Must Be…

**Disclaimer: Regardless of how tempted I might be to say it, I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters. (Cue for a mournful sigh.) **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 8: And You Must Be…**

As far as Tristan was concerned, parties were only good for two things. You either went to mingle with the cream of society over caviar and shrimp puffs, or to drink yourself silly. All his years of living the privileged life had taught him that. It was one of the things he'd always hated about being born into a world of prestige and influence – a world of pretensions and carefully maintained appearances, a world where all that mattered was preserving the family name. 

But for all his secret loathing for his life and all that it stood for, it still didn't prevent him from playing the part of the dutiful DuGrey progeny. His grandfather had insisted he make an appearance at the Lyndon cocktail party. And, as always, he had gritted his teeth, forced himself to smile, and complied, ever the obedient grandson. Even as he stood in the midst of the gathering, smiling pleasantly and exchanging hellos with countless members of the Hartford elite, he couldn't help smiling sardonically at his own lack of – lack of what exactly? 

Courage, perhaps? The courage to stand up for himself and be his own man, instead of the man society _expected_ him to be? 

Yes, that had to be it. Tristan DuGrey, all grown up, and yet, still meekly living by his family's rules, still doing his best to live up to the reputation the public had bestowed upon him. Tristan DuGrey, the tall, handsome golden boy of Hartford, perpetually in the center of attention, and loving it. Or so _they_ said. But as much as he privately despised it, as much as he hated the attention and the fanfare, he never had the strength to be anything other than that – to be anything other than what people believed him to be. And for that, he was nothing but a gutless little coward. 

"What have you been doing, hiding away in Boston all this time?" 

Tristan blinked, shaking himself out of his gloomy thoughts. Effortlessly, he slipped into full-on DuGrey charmer mode, giving the elegant woman in front of him another gracious smile. "Working, unfortunately. You know how it is." 

"Of course," the woman nodded, captivated by the charismatic presence of the young man standing before her. "But you know what they say. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. You really should come back to Hartford more often, Tristan dear." 

"There's nothing I'd rather do," Tristan smoothly affirmed, the lie easily rolling off his tongue. He bowed slightly. "If you'll excuse me, duty calls. It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Lyndon." Giving the older woman one last smile, he turned and walked away, seeking refuge in the laughing crowds.

"DuGrey! Good to see you again!" 

"Tristan, call me sometime!"

"Looking sharp, Tristan!" 

He paid no attention to the hazy voices, choosing instead to smile vaguely before continuing on his way, swept along by the activity around him, another beautiful face in the jet-set crowd. Off in the corner, Tristan spotted his parents, each standing with their friends, the lines of tension on their faces so skillfully hidden beneath big smiles and mindless social chatter. His grandfather was talking to another one of his business partners, and Tristan acknowledged the elder man's almost imperceptible nod. What a dysfunctional family they were, each of them actors in one big charade. But if there was anything the DuGrey lineage believed in, it was simply to keep up all appearances, no matter what the cost.     

"Tristan, there you are!"

It was difficult to ignore the shrill greeting over the sounds of the party, and it was all Tristan could do not to wince as he slowly turned around to face the source of the voice. He smiled, albeit reluctantly. "Hello, Lauren." 

At Tristan's half-hearted response, the tall leggy blond pouted seductively. "So, you thought you could get away with not phoning me after our little date last week, did you?" She looked him coolly, her jade eyes sweeping down the length of his body. 

"Well," Tristan gestured distractedly, "I've been somewhat tied down with work. Forgive me." 

"Of course," she purred, her ruby lips curving in a knowing, secret smile. "Don't I always?" 

Tristan shifted uneasily. "Pardon me, I have to go talk to my father a moment. I'll see you afterward, hopefully?"

"Hopefully," the blond reaffirmed, and Tristan backed away, relief breaking over him as he walked off. Seeing more well dressed women eagerly heading his way, he swiftly ducked behind a leafy, voluminous potted plant nearby, emerging only after he was certain the coast was clear. 

The was nothing quite like The Running of the Gold Diggers to put your senses on hyper-alert. 

Tristan walked over to the buffet table, partly to escape the gaggle of women stalking him, and partly out of curiosity. After all, any party the Lyndons threw was  consistently famous for two reasons – its extravagantly sumptuous food display, and its impressive guest list. And Tristan had mingled long enough at the get-together to know exactly who was in attendance (and who wasn't). 

Grabbing a plate, his eyes roamed down the table, lingering every once in awhile over anything that took his fancy. Spotting something particularly enticing, he reached out, intending to retrieve the serving spoon. 

"Tristan?" 

Hearing his name, he froze, all thoughts of food forgotten. 

Busted. 

Cursing himself for his carelessness, he turned around, preparing to surrender to the inevitable flurry of feminine attention that was certain to be awaiting him. But fate apparently had other plans. He felt his eyes widen in astonishment. 

"Rory?" 

"You remember me?" A smile broke out across her face, incredulous, delighted. 

"Of course I do," Tristan said, recovering from his initial shock. "I'm just surprised you remember _me_." 

"Oh hey, you're pretty _unforgettable_, you know," Rory teased, her eyes dancing. 

"Really?" Tristan smirked, pleased. "Why?" 

"Because," she said, her voice conspiring, "because you were such a pain in the butt." 

Tristan couldn't help it then – he laughed. "I was, huh?" 

Rory grinned. "Oh, without a doubt."

"So," Tristan ventured as he glanced about their surroundings. "What are you doing here? I didn't imagine you to be the, uh–"

"The caviar and champagne type?" she supplied, and Tristan nodded. "Well, my grandparents wanted me to come, to meet new people, stuff like that." 

"Sounds familiar," Tristan joked. "So you've finally become one of the Hartford socialites, have you? I always assumed Hell would freeze over before Rory Gilmore succumbed to the lure of The Dark Side."  

Rory smiled casually. "Just like how I assumed Britney Spears would become the next Dalai Lama before Tristan DuGrey _ever_ resorted to hiding behind a plant while trying to escape from a group of marauding upper-class females."

"Ah, touché." 

"Indeed." Her face grew serious again. "It's good to see you again, Tristan." 

Hearing the sincerity in her words, Tristan smiled warmly. "It's good to see you too." Spying the elegant diamond ring glittering on her hand, he added hastily, "And congratulations. On your engagement, I mean." 

"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet as she gazed at him. 

"So, uh," Tristan cleared his throat self-consciously. "How've you been?"  

"I can't complain," she responded, amused at the expression on Tristan's face. This was the closest she'd ever been to seeing him looking ill at ease, and coming from the former Chilton Prep hotshot, it was nothing short of being incredible. Things had truly changed, no doubt about that. "And yourself?" 

Tristan smiled, some of his awkwardness fading. "Well, I've actually–"  

"Rory honey, I've been looking all over for you!" 

Two pairs of eyes swung as one at the sound of the unfamiliar voice cutting across their conversation, and before Tristan knew what was going on, a tall man walked up and proceeded to wrap his arms around Rory. Nonplussed, Tristan watched as the couple exchanged kisses and loving smiles. But Rory's good manners prevailed, and she hurriedly disentangled herself from the man's embrace, shooting a contrite smile at Tristan as she did so. 

"Good, you showed up just in time. I want you to meet someone," Rory looked up at the man, her smile brightening. "Sweetie, this is my friend Tristan DuGrey." Looking back, her eyes alighted on Tristan's once again. "Tristan, this is Robert Matheson – my fiancé." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	9. Comparing Notes

**Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls? Nope, don't own 'em – I just wish I did! (Especially the yummy Chad Michael Murray…) **

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's so brief – I can't make it any longer, without giving away the rest of the story! And I don't want that to happen now, do I?   **

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 9: Comparing Notes**

"So what's he like?" 

Lifting his eyes, Tristan smiled glumly before downing the rest of his drink. "Tall." 

Jess frowned, somewhat annoyed. "Wow, and that tells me _a lot_." 

Tristan stared into space, oblivious of the other man's sarcasm. "What's there to say? He's tall, he's rich, he's stuck up – and he has Rory Gilmore. Is that descriptive enough for you?" 

"Okay, okay, I know you're a little bummed out," Dean spoke up, ever the voice of reason. "But there's no reason to be–"

"An ass?" Jess insolently suggested. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "I was going to say _argumentative_." 

Tristan smirked. "Very diplomatic of you."

"I try my best." Dean grinned. He glanced at Tristan. "So?"

Tristan blinked uncomprehendingly. "What?" 

Jess sighed impatiently. "Are you going to tell us about your encounter with the great Robert Matheson or not?" 

"Oh. Right." Tristan straightened up. "He's a business graduate from Harvard, and he met Rory through a mutual friend. Oh, and did I mention the fact that he's a snob?" 

"Snobbier than you?" Jess teased. 

Tristan nodded faintly. "Much." 

"Someone snobbier than Tristan DuGrey?" Dean shook his head, mystified. "Now _that_ I can't imagine." 

"Oh, there is," Tristan grimly assured him. "Believe me. I had the misfortune of meeting him." 

"What I don't get," Jess said, "is why on earth Rory would go for someone like that." 

"Hey, she was attracted to DuGrey at one point," Dean pointed out, ignoring the scowl on Tristan's face. "If something like that could've happened, then hope springs eternal for the rest of mankind." 

"Oh, stuff it, Bag Boy," Tristan said, but his voice held no actual spite in it. 

"Okay," Jess interrupted. "So what happened?" 

"The usual," Tristan waved a hand dismissively. "He and I sat down, talked business, traded success stories, and he spent the rest of the night subtly rubbing it in my face that he has Rory, and I don't." 

"Now you're just exaggerating," Dean said, but his tone was dubious. "Aren't you?" 

"Think what you want to think," Tristan replied wearily. "I know what I heard." He shrugged. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but after our little tête-à-tête, I'm inclined to think that Mr. Matheson had a stick firmly shoved up his–"

"Okay, we get the message," Jess said, trading glances with Dean. "The engagement party's tomorrow. You're still going, right?" 

"Of course." Tristan smiled, his expression scornful. Then he sighed heavily. "As of tomorrow night, you will both have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mr. Robert Matheson, jerk extraordinaire. Knock yourselves out." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	10. Daisy Chains, Kung-Fu Fighting, and Part...

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Gilmore Girls, and that's all I'm going to say!**

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 10: Daisy Chains, Kung-Fu Fighting, and Partying Down**

"Well, you have to admit one thing – the Gilmores sure know how to party." 

Hearing this, Dean laughed before looking at Jess. "You have no idea." Gesturing around the party, he grinned widely. "You can credit Emily Gilmore for the chinaware and silver, and the matching napkins and table settings." 

"And the swan ice sculpture," Tristan added, smirking as he stood surveying the huge centerpiece off to his left. "Interesting workmanship." 

"One more reason for me not to hire Rory's grandmother as _my_ wedding planner," Jess joked, and the others chuckled. 

"As for the huge cups of coffee…" Dean shook his head sentimentally. "Well, I don't need to tell you who's in charge of _that_." 

"Looks like someone's caffeine addiction is as healthy as ever," Jess agreed. The trio continued to stand around, quietly scrutinizing the gathering, half-full glasses of champagne in their hands. 

"Oh looky here, it's my three favorite Stooges, all hidden away in the corner!" 

Taken aback by the unorthodox greeting, all three men started with surprise, but they visibly relaxed when they saw who'd spoken. Dean grinned. "Hey, Lorelai. How's it been?" 

Lorelai Gilmore bounced up, her smile sunny. "Oh, it's been awful lonesome without y'all here," she said, going for a Southern accent. 

"Really?" Jess narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. There's no one at the diner to sneak you a cup of coffee when Luke says no?" 

"Yeah," Lorelai grinned sheepishly. "Besides, it's gotten kind of boring without the three of you following my daughter around, like little lovesick puppies!"

"_Lovesick puppies_?" Tristan wrinkled his nose. "Surely you jest, madam." 

"I jest you not, Bible Boy," Lorelai shook her head solemnly. "I seem to recall many instances of you fine men fighting over Rory…" She grinned wickedly. "So, what are the odds of any kung-fu fighting happening at the dessert display later tonight? A battle to win the hand of fair Lady Rory Gilmore, perhaps?"  

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Kung-fu fighting?" 

"Yeah, you know," Lorelai nodded enthusiastically, "like getting all _Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon_ with the apple tarts. Or even Bruce Lee! Yeah, Bruce Lee's good too." When the men stared at her with bewilderment, she tried again. "How about Jackie Chan? Uh, Jet Li?" 

Again, no response.

Frustrated, Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Geez, don't you kids _ever_ watch good TV?"   

Jess shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint." 

"Well…" Lorelai looked hopefully at the three men. "Is anyone going to lose an eye anytime soon, at least?"

"Afraid not," Tristan shrugged. 

"Aw, darn! There goes the highlight of the party!" Lorelai pouted for a few moments before smiling again. "Oh well, I'm off to spike the punch. Anyone want to help?" 

"That's an offer I find quite easy to resist," Dean laughed. 

"Okay then," Lorelai gave them another mischievous grin. "See you guys around!" 

"Now _she_ is one cool mom," Tristan said, watching as Lorelai pranced off. 

Dean grinned. "Without a doubt." 

"Look over there."

It was Jess who had spoken, and the other two shifted their gaze across the room, where a small crowd had already gathered. Tristan raised his eyebrows. "Well, well." 

Dean and Jess didn't respond – they were too busy staring at the arrival of the party's two guests of honor. Rory Gilmore, tall, beautiful as always, radiant in her simple dress of midnight blue, and the famous Robert Matheson, eyes proud, arm possessively draped around his fiancée's slim waist. There they stood, graciously greeting the crowd of guests gathered around them. Finally, Dean smiled. "So, I guess we should get over there, huh?" 

"Good idea," Jess nodded, and off they went, threading their way carefully through the throng of revelers and well-wishers, somehow managing to make their way past the swarm around Rory. By now, her fiancé was conspicuously absent, having disappeared into the crowd just moments earlier. She was in the middle of greeting another guest, but when she saw the three men standing before her, the bright smile on her face visibly faltered, replaced by a look of confusion. "Dean? Tristan? Jess?" But then her courtesy won out once again, and she smiled politely at them – at the men who once held such prominence in her young life. "It's – it's nice to see you all here." The four of them lapsed into silence, not quite knowing what to say. 

Somewhere in the back of his head, Jess realized that the last time any of them had been in the same setting together, it had most likely ended up with threats and near-violence – which would certainly explain the pained, awkward expression on Rory's face. Her eyes darted from Dean to Tristan to Jess, almost as though she was expecting one of them to let loose with a war whoop and pounce on the others, thus sparking the drawn-out brawl of epic proportions Lorelai had hinted at earlier. No, that wasn't going to happen.    

"Nice party," Dean finally volunteered, and that seemed to break the tension. 

"Yeah, this is quite the bash you have going here, Mary," Tristan grinned, and Rory smiled. 

"Ah, that name again. It's my cross to bear," she sighed, relief flickering across her face. "Am I ever going to be rid of that tag, DuGrey?"

"Nope," the blond man shook his head emphatically, and the others laughed. "Sorry." 

"So," Rory began, her tone hesitant. "You guys, um…" 

"Don't sweat it, Rory," Jess said smoothly. "No one's going to be stabbing anyone else with the asparagus tips during the meal, Scout's honor." 

"So what?" she eyed them skeptically. "You're all friends now?" 

"You could say that," Tristan averred, shooting the other two a sly glance. 

"Yeah," Jess couldn't resist adding. "Later on, we're planning on going outside, holding hands, and skipping." 

A look of mortal terror crossed Dean's face. "Please tell me you're joking, Mariano." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jess grinned. "Did you want to make daisy chains and bake cookies instead? My mistake." 

Dean opened his mouth to zing one back at Jess, but a commotion at the far end of the room beat him to it. Curious, everyone turned around, the murmurs increasing, finally culminating with gasps of surprise and delight. Rory stepped forward, her smile enchanted as she took in the gigantic cake being wheeled toward her by two of the waiters, with her fiancé not far behind. 

As if on cue, the entire assembly burst into a hearty, enthusiastic rendition of _Happy Birthday_ as the cake came to a stop in front of the birthday girl, and everyone watched as Rory and her fiancé Robert embraced. 

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Robert said, and cheers filled the room as Rory bent down to blow out the candles atop the cake.

Jess smiled craftily at the others before clearing his throat. "Speech! Speech!"

Just as Jess had hoped, everyone took up the chant, and Tristan hid a grin at the dirty look Rory shot Jess. If there was one thing Rory Gilmore hated above everything else, it had to be impromptu public speeches. He patted Jess on the shoulder. _Smart man_. 

"I, uh…" Rory's voice wavered before slowly growing stronger. "I want to thank everyone for being here today – you have no idea how happy I am to see you all here, it really means a lot to me. I'd like to thank my parents, and my grandparents, for making sure this party would go off without a hitch. And," she smiled lovingly at Robert before continuing, "and I want to thank my fiancé Robert for this wonderful surprise – I love you." 

A few choruses of "Aw," filled the air, and everyone clapped. As Rory began the process of cutting the cake, Tristan turned to Dean and Jess. 

"Okay, you wanted to meet Robert Matheson, right?" Tristan grinned as the other two nodded. "Well, here's your chance. He's coming this way." 

"DuGrey! Nice to see you again!" 

Tristan smiled and gripped Robert's hand in a firm shake. "Robert, good thinking with the cake, man." 

"Oh well, you know how women are," Robert smirked. "Remember all the important things, and you're home free." He smiled at Jess and Dean. "I don't believe we've been introduced yet. I'm Robert." 

Acutely aware that Dean was seething with anger, Jess smiled easily, choosing to speak first. "I'm Jess, and this rather tall fellow here is Dean. We're friends of Rory's." 

"Of course," Robert nodded, oblivious of the expression on Dean's face. "How do you like the party so far?" 

"It's okay," Tristan shrugged noncommittally. 

Robert shook his head with disgust. "That's the problem: it's okay. Not fantastic. Just _okay_. You see," he lowered his voice, "I wanted to have this banquet at my family's manor in France, complete with fireworks and horse drawn carriages, the whole nine yards. But no, Emily Gilmore and the rest of the clan decided they want to have the whole thing here in Hartford. Talk about Hicksville." He frowned. "And Rory, she just went along with it, didn't want to go against her family's wishes. Pathetic."

At this point, Dean's face was turning the slightest shade of red. "Pathetic?" 

"That's right," Robert nodded, and Jess had to marvel at the man's apparent inability to pick up on the danger signals Dean was sending out. "Absolutely pathetic. I mean, this party could have been incredible, truly something to talk about. Instead, here we are, in _Hartford_." He took another sip of his champagne, as though the name had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Oh well," Tristan smiled slightly. "C'est la vie."

"Right indeed, DuGrey," Robert slapped Tristan on the back jovially. "Well, I'm off to check on the future in-laws. See you guys around." 

"Party on, dude," Jess said, raising his fist, his smile mocking. "Party on." 

After Robert had walked away, Tristan glanced at Dean. "Hey Bag Boy, you okay? You look kind of – red." 

"I'm fine," growled Dean, his eyes shooting daggers at Robert's retreating figure. "Geez, when you said the guy was stuck-up, I had no idea…!" 

"Welcome to the world of the rich, Dean ol' boy," Jess grinned. "Only the influentially snobby need apply."

"Hey, I resent that," Tristan protested, and Jess laughed. Even Dean cracked a smile.  

"So…" Dean glanced back to where Rory was standing, his eyes darkening when he caught a glimpse of Robert. 

"Come on," Jess suddenly said, walking away, with the other two following close behind. 

"Where're we going?" Dean asked, throwing one last glance at the happy couple before stepping in line behind Jess. 

"Remember what Jess said earlier?" Tristan grinned. 

Dean frowned. "What, about holding hands and skipping?"

"Better yet," Jess smiled evilly. "We're going to teach you how to make daisy chains." 

"What?" 

"Relax, Dean," Tristan laughed. "We're just going to put some distance between you and the Jerk Extraordinaire, before you get the chance to swing out and stab the guy with a fork. And the last thing you want to do in the middle of a Gilmore celebration is attack Rory's fiancé. Understood?" 

"Okay," Dean nodded, but he still looked distrustful. "No daisy chains though, right?" 

"No," Jess somberly avowed. "But I've always been more of a hopscotch man myself. So there will be hopscotch." 

"_Hopscotch_?" 

Jess sniggered. "Just kidding." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	11. Help! Mr. Lennon’s Got Footlockers in Hi...

**Disclaimer: Me? Owning Gilmore Girls? Hah, I wish! But I did borrow The Beatles' 'Yesterday' for the purpose of this chapter…**

*

**Cheers**

**Chapter 11: Help! Mr. Lennon's Got Footlockers in His Pockets! **

"_Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play – now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday_…" 

"Dean." 

"Yeah, buddy?"

"On behalf of the rest of humanity, I'm begging you–"

"Mm-hmm?" 

"Shut up." 

A moment of silence filled the air, and Tristan saw Dean grin at him, albeit somewhat lopsidedly. 

"You're a funny man, DuGrey. Funny, funny man." The slurred sentence was punctuated by a bout of hysterical laughter, causing Tristan and Jess to trade worried looks. "Come on, Jessie Boy! Sing along!" 

"That's _Jess_," the other man stiffly corrected his companion, although concern still tinged his deep brown eyes. 

"I know that," Dean hiccupped, slapping Jess a little too enthusiastically on the back. "Did you know that, Tristan?" 

"Uh, yes, I did," affirmed Tristan, shrugging helplessly at Jess. When Dean suddenly lurched to one side, the other two lunged forward to catch him. "This sucks." 

"Yeah well, how was I to know he'd end up like this?" In the dark, there seemed to be a hint of defensiveness in Jess's voice. 

"Okay. Fine. Forget it." Tristan exhaled heavily before turning back to Dean. "Come on, man. We're taking you home." 

"Home?" Dean blinked, as though deeply confused. 

"Yeah." Tristan threw a glance over his shoulder at Jess, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. "Do you know where he lives?" 

"What do I look like, some sort of Bag Boy stalker or something?"

Tristan glared at him. "Would it kill you to lay off the sarcasm for one second?"

"Alright, I'm sorry," Jess grumbled, hoisting Dean's shoulders once again. "Dean, you're gonna have to tell us where you live." Nothing. "Dean?" 

"It's no use asking him," Tristan grunted, straining under the weight of his 6 foot 2 inch burden. "I think he's passed out." 

"No shit, Sherlock," Jess wheezed. "Damn, what's the guy got in his coat pockets? Footlockers?" 

"Just keep walking, Mariano." 

The men struggled on in silence for the next few minutes. Finally, Tristan sighed dolefully. "You know something…" 

"What?" 

"When I told Dean we were going to put some distance between him and Rory's fiancé back at the party, I'm pretty certain this wasn't the scenario I'd imagined." A fleeting grin crossed Tristan's lips. "It's kind of funny, when you think about it." 

"Yeah," Jess chuckled quietly. "I guess it is." He glanced up sharply, relief dawning on his face. "There's a bench up ahead." 

"Thank God for small mercies," Tristan quipped, eliciting a weary smile from his friend. Dumping Dean on the seat, the two men took the opportunity to stretch their aching muscles, their breaths coming out in smoky puffs in the cold morning air. Jess strained to look at his watch. 

"It's 2.00am, and Bag Boy's out cold on a bench," he muttered. "What do we do?"  

"I don't know," Tristan looked perplexed, and a little annoyed. "We don't know where he lives, and he's down for the count, so…" Another shrug. "I don't know." Running a hand over his tired eyes, Tristan was silent. "It'd take a miracle to get us out of this one." Suddenly, he stiffened. 

Jess raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "What?" 

"Shh," Tristan cut him off, his tone urgent, his eyes awake. "Someone's coming." 

Sure enough, Jess could make out the faint sounds of footsteps, and voices – two, it seemed. And as the noises steadily increased, it occurred to him that _they_ were getting closer. Tristan knew this too, and both men waited tensely, their senses on alert, ready for whatever – or _whoever_ – was headed their way.

"Ugh, remind me never to go to another one of my parents' shindigs – _ever_." 

"Oh, quit whining. You know you had a good time." 

"Yeah, maybe I did, but that's just how I am, you know. Dramatic." 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the drama queen of Connecticut."

"And yet, you adore me for it."  

Jess frowned. He knew that voice. It could only be– 

"Jess? Tristan? What are you two doing here?"

Startled, Jess and Tristan snapped around in the direction of the voice, and immediately, sheepish grins crossed their faces. Tristan cleared his throat. "Uh, hi Lorelai." 

Coming to a stop in front of them, Lorelai folded her arms, her eyes narrowed. "Now, this is just a wild guess, but is that _Dean_ I see asleep on the bench behind you?" 

Guiltily, Jess dropped his gaze from an unconscious Dean to a suspicious Lorelai. "Would you believe me if I said he's just resting?" 

"Oh, so he's resting, hmm?" Lorelai turned to her companion. "That certainly clears things up, don't you think so?" Shaking her head reproachfully at Tristan and Jess, she walked over to where Dean lay. "Anyone want to tell me what happened to poor Dean?" 

Tristan and Jess traded awkward looks. "We, uh, we took him drinking," Jess admitted shamefacedly.

"Drinking?" Lorelai frowned. "When?" 

"During the party," Tristan piped up. "He was a little tense, so we thought a few drinks would loosen him up." 

"Looks like you did a good job there," Lorelai's friend commented. 

"Well, you should get him home then." Seeing the looks on the young men's faces, Lorelai stopped. "What?"

"That's the problem," Jess explained, the frustration evident in his voice. "We don't know where he lives." 

"He lives on Peach," Lorelai supplied, the half-forgotten memory floating back into her consciousness. 

"Yeah," Jess smiled wryly. "And how many houses are there on Peach?" 

"Damn," she huffed. "Okay, there goes that plan." 

"How about letting him spend the night at your place, Jess?" Lorelai's friend suggested, but Jess shook his head. 

"Where would I put him? In the cupboard?" Jess ran a hand through his hair. "And he can't go to Tristan's – it's all the way in Hartford." 

"Point taken," Lorelai conceded thoughtfully. Then her eyes lit up. "How about he sleep over at my house, then?" 

"You don't have a guest room," Jess pointed out patiently. "And he probably wouldn't fit on the sofa." 

"He can use Rory's room," Lorelai said jubilantly. "She's staying the night with Robert." 

"Well, that should be okay then," said Tristan, still looking a little dubious.

"Alrighty. It's settled." Lorelai rubbed her hands together, gleeful. Stepping back to Dean, she tapped him on the shoulder, rousing him from his alcohol-soaked sleep. "Dean, it's Lorelai. We're taking you back to my place, okay?" 

"Lorelai?" A slow grin spread across Dean's face, and he attempted to sit up. "Hey, Lorelai. You're here too. Everybody's here." 

"Yes, Dean," Jess nodded. "Everybody's here."  

"Wow. Hey," Dean allowed Tristan and Jess to pull him up. "Hey, do you guys like The Beatles?" 

"Sure," Lorelai shrugged. "What's not to love?" 

"Great," Dean grinned, stumbling a little as he took a few steps forward. "Do you know that song, _Yesterday_? Man, I love that song." 

"Don't get him started," Tristan said warningly. "He's been singing it all night. Thinks he's John Lennon or something." 

"Really?" An evil grin flickered across Lorelai's lips. Casting innocent eyes at a groggy Dean, she smiled sweetly. "So, how does the song go again?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Tristan groaned, throwing his hands up in despair, watching as the others ambled off, Lorelai's voice mingling with Dean's in a rambunctious song. 

Jess smirked, coolly surveying the scene in front of him. "What a night, huh?" 

"Yeah," Tristan absently agreed, taking in the way Lorelai and her companion struggled to keep Dean on his feet. Lorelai's voice drifted back to them. 

"Sing it, Mr. Lennon!" 

Another glance passed between Tristan and Jess, and both smiled deprecatingly. Jess shook his head.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but after today, and after watching him throw back all those beers in the space of one night, I can honestly say I prefer ol' Dean sober." 

Tristan grinned. "You know what's scarier? I think I agree with you."  

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	12. Coffee and Confidences

**Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls? Nope, don't own 'em! **

**A/N: Sorry the updates are taking so long – classes are getting pretty intense these days! Mucho apologies, people… **

* 

**Cheers**

**Chapter 12: Coffee and Confidences**

"So, do you guys want anything to drink?"

"Sure," Tristan glanced at Jess, who shrugged. "What have you got?" 

"Well, uh…" Lorelai's voice was muffled as she continued rummaging through the cupboard, her back to the two young men seated in her kitchen. "There's coffee. And some Slim Jims. Oh, and Pop Tarts." She threw a grin over her shoulder. "So, what'll you have?"  

"I think I'll stick with coffee," Jess said, his voice amused. 

Tristan leaned back in his seat tiredly. "I'll second that." 

"Good choice." Taking out three mugs, Lorelai glanced at Jess and Tristan. "Did you have fun at Rory's engagement party?" 

"It was about as entertaining as going for a vasectomy," Jess muttered, and Tristan had difficulty suppressing his snort of laughter. 

"Wow, aren't you Mr. Positive this morning!" Lorelai busied herself with preparing the drinks, but when she spoke again, her voice was suspiciously bland. "Mind me asking why you didn't like the party?" 

"It wasn't the party that I didn't like," Jess stated, crossing his arms. 

"What was it then?" Scratching her head, Lorelai played dumb. "Was it the shrimp puffs? The sorbets? The lemon meringue, perhaps?" 

"It wasn't the food, Lorelai," Tristan interjected, shooting Jess a warning glance. "Society parties just aren't Mariano's scene."

"Is that a fact?" Lorelai handed the men their mugs before joining them at the table. "Come on, you guys. Out with it." 

"Like Tristan said," Jess smiled nonchalantly. "Society parties aren't my style." 

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Wow, you really enjoy leaving a girl in suspense, don't you?" 

"I try my best," Jess smirked. 

"Fine. I'm not talking to you now," Lorelai pouted, turning away. "How about you, Tristan? You'll talk to me, won't you?"

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say, but I'll go with _yes_," Tristan kidded, taking another sip of his coffee. 

"Smart boy." Leaning forward, Lorelai rested her chin on her hand, a contemplative expression on her face. "What a night."

"You read my mind," Jess said, prompting smiles from the other two. A momentary hush fell over the room, and Jess watched as Lorelai fiddled with the handle of her mug. 

"So what do you guys think of Rory's fiancé?" 

There it was – the million-dollar question. 

Tristan stiffened. His gaze automatically shifted toward Jess, whose eyes were glinting with mischief. There was no telling what would happen next. "He's…" Tristan paused, agonizing over what to say. How on earth could he possibly convey to Lorelai Gilmore just how much he despised her daughter's future husband? "He's… okay." 

Jess raised his chin defiantly. "I think he's a jackass."

The effect of Jess's announcement couldn't have been more dramatic than if a bolt of lightning had suddenly struck out of the blue. For a moment, it felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, and everything was deathly still as Tristan remained frozen in place, his eyes shifting from Lorelai to Jess.   

Lorelai silently regarded the outspoken young man, who looked back at her fearlessly. A lifetime seemed to elapse in the silence that followed Jess's startling revelation, and Tristan absently wondered if he'd have time to go wake Dean up before anyone started throwing punches. 

But then the corner of Lorelai's mouth quivered, and she finally succumbed to the smile that had been threatening to overtake her. "Glad to see I'm not the only one who thinks my soon-to-be son-in-law is a pompous jerk." 

Tristan blinked, unsure if he'd heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

"Don't look so shocked, Bible Boy," Lorelai chided, her smile impish. "Don't you know it's customary for mothers to hate their sons-in-law? Except in this case, I'm completely justified." She looked down at her half-empty mug. "What I don't understand is why my smart, wonderful baby girl would fall in love with someone like him." 

"That's what we've been wondering," Jess leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table surface. 

"_We_?" Lorelai's eyebrows shot up. "As in, you and Tristan – and Dean, too?" 

Tristan smiled. "Why else do you think he got so drunk?" 

"Good point." 

"I know everyone's always going on about how you shouldn't judge a book by its cover and everything, but I know a jerk when I see one." Jess smiled dryly. "And Robert Matheson is a prime example." 

"Wow, strongly worded," Lorelai clapped him on the shoulder. "You should take up speech-writing some day." 

"My lifelong dream," Jess deadpanned, and she laughed. 

"So, uh," Tristan paused. "How did the Rory-Robert deal happen, anyway?" 

"He was from Harvard," Lorelai said. "A Business graduate or something."

"We know that, and we know she met him through a friend," Tristan said. "But I'm sure there's more to the story than that." 

"I don't know, actually," Lorelai confessed, her face mystified. "They hung out in the same social circles, so I guess that must've been part of the reason. Either way, he is one smooth dude when he wants to be, swept Rory right off her feet. It's amazing what a few romantic gestures and a couple of intellectual debates can do these days." 

"Way better than your approach in high school, I'll bet," Jess smirked at Tristan. 

The blond man glared at his friend. "What, like your _I'm-too-cool-for-this-town_ tactic was any better?" 

"Whoa, okay," Lorelai interrupted, just as Jess opened his mouth to retort. "Any more of this, and I'm going to have to call a time-out. Now, does everyone agree to play nice?" When the men nodded grudgingly, she brightened. "Good." 

"So what does she see in that jerk, anyway?" Jess glowered, remembering his brief encounter with Rory's fiancé at the party. "He's rude–"

"And arrogant," Tristan butted in. 

"And indiscreet."

"And self-absorbed." 

"And he's got big ears and a pointy head!" Seeing the expressions on Jess and Tristan's faces, Lorelai shrugged. "What? You guys were getting so carried away with all the descriptions, and I wanted to join the fun."

Jess shook his head. "The point is, how could we possibly just stand by and watch Rory throw her life away for him?" 

"That's not for us to decide," Lorelai argued. "Look, I know everyone here has issues with Robert, but really, if Rory loves him, then I'm afraid we'll just have to suck it up and deal with it." 

Tristan frowned. "I don't agree with that." 

"I trust Rory's judgment," Lorelai stated, her tone leaving no room for debate. "And if she says there's a good side to him, then I believe her." 

"I guess you're right," Tristan conceded, albeit reluctantly. 

Jess scowled. "But that doesn't make me like him any better."

"I'm not asking you to like Robert," Lorelai said. "I just want you guys to put up with him, for Rory's sake." 

"If it's for Rory, then–" Jess sighed heavily. "Fine."  

Lorelai smiled softly. "Thank you." 

Tristan stretched wearily. "It's late. We should probably get going."

"Yeah," Jess finished off the remainder of his drink before relinquishing his seat as well. "Thanks for the coffee, Lorelai."

"No problem," she replied, walking the two to the front door. "Are you sure you guys don't want to stay the night?" 

"No, I've got to be heading back to Hartford," Tristan smiled, retrieving his coat as he spoke. "Thanks anyway."

"And I can just walk home," Jess added. 

"I'll drop you off, if you want," Tristan suggested, his offer met with a nod of appreciation. 

Lorelai unlocked the door, easing it open before turning back to the men. "Well then, drive safely, okay?" 

"Sure thing," Tristan said, slipping out the doorway, Jess behind him. "Good night, Lorelai."

"Good night, Tristan," Lorelai responded. "Bye, Jess."

"See you later, Lorelai!" 

With a sigh, she closed the door again, resting her head against it. Outside, she heard the muted sounds of a car starting, followed by the crunching of tyres on gravel. She listened as Tristan's car pulled away from the house, and then all was quiet once more. She closed her eyes, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washing over her. 

"Lor? Are you okay?"

Hearing the voice, Lorelai turned around, a smile on her face. "Hey, there you are. We were wondering where you disappeared to." 

"I was in the shower," the other person said, easing closer to Lorelai. "Besides, I knew better than to intrude on a Lorelai Gilmore _Let's bash the Future Son-In-Law_ meeting. Where're the boys?"

"They just left," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Oh Chris, I feel so…old." 

"Maybe that's because you are," Christopher Hayden soothed, wrapping his arms around Lorelai and kissing her forehead. "We both are."

"What happened?" Lorelai peered up at him. "I mean, one minute Rory's sixteen and telling me about her Biology test. The next thing I know, she's getting married and I'm sitting in the kitchen with two of the boys who used to worship her, trading hate stories about her fiancé." Closing her eyes, she buried her head in Christopher's shoulder again. "I miss my baby." 

"I know," he murmured, stroking her hair. They stood that way for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, both not wanting to let go. Finally, Christopher smiled down at Lorelai. 

"Come on, let's get you to bed."

*

**To Be Continued…**


	13. Sherlock Holmes, Breakfast at Luke’s, an...

**Disclaimer: I didn't own Gilmore Girls yesterday, I didn't own them the day before, and guess what? Nothing's changed. Oh yeah, and Jess's Miracle Cure is based on an actual recipe, for those of you who're wondering… **

*****

**Cheers**

**Chapter 13: Sherlock Holmes, Breakfast at Luke's, and The Mariano Miracle Cure**

The diner was surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, not that it mattered, of course. The sounds and smells of the kitchen wafted into the main eating area, where tables of hungry patrons sat waiting to place their orders. The sounds of laughter and raised voices pervaded the air, along with the ever-present buzz of activity, but the young man seated at the counter could hardly care less. 

"Geez, my head is killing me."

"Hearing you loud and clear, Bag Boy," Jess muttered, pausing long enough to shoot a vaguely impatient look at Dean. "Quit whining." 

"Just out of curiosity," Tristan glanced up from the menu he had been scrutinizing for the past few minutes, a bored expression on his face. "What _are_ you doing? And which would you recommend – the blueberry pancakes, or the French toast?"

"French toast," Luke Danes grumpily suggested as he sailed by, his face harried and his hands balancing several plates of food. "Hey Jess, would it kill you to help me out here?"

Hearing his name, Jess's head snapped up, and he offered the man another one of his annoying smirks. "Sure thing, Uncle Luke. In a minute."

"No," Luke snapped, marching up to his nephew. "Listen Curly, you're going to tear yourself away from Moe and Larry here, and you're helping me right now. Understood?"

"Got it," Jess nodded, turning his back on the burly, plaid-shirted man. "Right after I'm done." 

"What're the Evil One and Narcolepsy Boy doing here, anyway?" Luke frowned. "By the way Dean, you look like hell."

"Thanks, Luke," Dean winced, his hand gingerly pressed to his forehead. "You always did have a way with words." 

Taking in the mess on the counter, Luke scowled. "Jess…"  

"Yeah?" 

Leaning forward, Luke picked up a banana peel, which rested alongside an empty can, some crumpled packaging, and several used spoons. "Any reason why my counter looks like Beirut?" 

"In case you haven't noticed, Dean here has a royal hangover," Jess blandly explained, reaching for a few small bottles on his left. "Out of the kindness of my heart, I decided to whip up my famous Mariano Miracle Hangover Cure." 

"Jess the Humanitarian – that's new," Luke sniped, watching as Jess stirred the full glass one last time before sliding it toward Dean, who accepted it somewhat dubiously.

"So, uh," Dean stared warily at the murky coloured liquid inside the glass. "What exactly is in here?" 

"Orange juice, two tablespoons of honey, a banana, some V-8, milk, salt–" Turning away to retrieve a dishcloth, Jess missed the expression of faint horror on Dean's face. "–Strawberries, and a dash of nutmeg." 

"And here," Tristan neatly placed a handful of pills in front of Dean. "Don't forget these." 

"What're they?" Dean frowned suspiciously at his companion. 

 "Two aspirin tablets, and some vitamin C and B-complex. Gotta flush out those toxins," Tristan smiled, clearly enjoying the uneasiness on the taller man's face. "Bottoms up, Bag Boy." 

"That's what I'm afraid of," Dean muttered, his tone distrustful. "Should I ask what this tastes like? Is it even fit for human consumption?" 

Jess rolled his eyes. "Less talking, more drinking, do you mind?"

"You're _actually_ going to drink that?" Luke stared at Dean, his expression a mixture of incredulity and downright admiration. "You're either really brave, or just plain stupid. That stuff looks – vile." 

"Trust me, this baby'll get rid of that hangover before you know it," Jess confidently stated. "I should know." 

Luke shook his head disapprovingly, but he knew how useless it would be to lecture his nephew on the hazards of liquor. Besides, Jess wasn't seventeen any more – he was a full-grown man. He could do whatever he wanted. And even if that meant he wanted to dance the Hokey Pokey buck-naked in the middle of the Stars Hollow town square, it simply wasn't any of Luke's business. Thankfully, the chime of the front door distracted him just then, and he looked up to see Lorelai and Christopher walking in. He grunted. "Looks like the Coffee Junkie and her unfortunate spouse have arrived. For the last time Jess, clean up this damn mess, will you?"

"Now see, that's what I love about this place," Lorelai walked up to the group, her smile bright. "All that love. It makes me want to go outside and pick daisies or something." 

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that." Luke whipped out his notepad and looked up expectantly. "What'll it be? The usual?" 

"You bet," Lorelai affirmed, sitting down on the empty seat on Dean's left. "Oh gross, what's that?" 

"That," Tristan reached out and poked the glass, "is Jess's Miracle Hangover Cure." 

Glancing quizzically at Jess, Christopher's eyebrows quirked. "You have a Miracle Hangover Cure?"

"Wow, it looks…interesting," ventured Lorelai, her eyes still riveted on the contents of the glass. "Sort of like an alien life form or something." 

"Nice," Christopher laughed, just as Luke placed two huge mugs of coffee on the counter, alongside two orders of pancakes. 

"Geez, is that thing still here?" Luke shook his head with disgust. "Drink it already, before it has time to procreate."

"Okay," Dean sighed as he picked up the drink, bracing himself for the worst. "Here goes." 

The rest of the group was quiet as they watched Dean knock back Jess's concoction, and it was a few minutes before anyone spoke. Finally Lorelai couldn't take the silence any longer.

"Well? What's it taste like?"

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, a look of slight nausea washed over Dean's face. "Let's just say it's unlike anything I have ever tasted." 

"Quick," Lorelai prodded Luke urgently. "Get the man some coffee, for goodness' sake! Can't you see he's suffering?" 

"No," Jess shook his head. "No caffeine. You're going on a liquid diet today, at least until the worst of the hangover wears off." 

"No complaints here," Dean joked weakly. "I'm not particularly hungry right now, anyway." 

"So where's Rory?" Tristan asked, keeping his tone carefully indifferent. "I haven't seen her come in the diner this morning." 

"Oh, that's because she's busy canoodling with Robert back at the house," Lorelai responded, with a flippant wave of her hand. "They'll be heading here in a few minutes." 

Jess frowned. "What're they doing at your house?"    

"Well, she's still our daughter, you know," Christopher smiled, taking another bite of his breakfast. "They came down this morning, and Rory's taking Robert around on an official sight-seeing tour of Stars Hollow." 

"What's there to see?" Dean shrugged, looking mystified. "You go outside, make two left turns, and you're back in the middle of the town square." 

"That's Stars Hollow for you," Jess shrugged. 

"Hey everybody! Sorry we're late!" 

Everyone turned at the sound of the familiar voice, and Lorelai smiled. "Rory, Robert. Have you guys had breakfast?"

"Well, Robert wanted to head straight for the nearest StarBucks," Rory grinned, wrapping her arm around her fiancé. "You won't believe how long it took to convince him to give Luke's food a try. I'll have coffee, Luke, thanks. "

"Sure," Luke nodded, turning to look distastefully at Robert. "What about you?"

"Let me see–" Robert paused.  "Do you serve Macchiatos here?"  

Luke barely even looked up from his notepad. "Nope."

"Fine," Robert sighed, somewhat annoyed. "I'll just have a coffee." 

"Okay then, two coffees coming right up." 

Watching Luke walk away, Lorelai stifled a grin. Luke? Serving complicated coffee drinks? In an alternate universe – maybe. But not here in Stars Hollow, and definitely _not_ in Luke's Diner. 

Shifting her gaze around the small gathering, Rory's eyes alighted on Dean, who was still slumped over the counter. "Dean, are you okay?" 

"Yeah, he's fine," Tristan cut in. "He just had a little run-in with one of Jess's Chemistry experiments, that's all." 

"Oh yeah, you should've seen it," Lorelai interjected, her eyes round. "It was all gross-looking, and Dean drank it!"

Robert smirked. "Why? Lose a bet?" 

Rory shot her fiancé a sharp look before smiling apologetically. "What happened, Dean?"

"I, uh–" He hesitated before smiling wanly. "I just had one too many to drink last night, that's all." 

Rory's reproachful gaze travelled from Tristan to Jess. "Why didn't you two stop him?"

"He's a big boy, Rory," Robert interrupted. "He can take care of himself, you know."

"Yes, but–" 

A shrill electronic sounding beep cut across her words, and she watched helplessly as Robert retrieved his cell phone from his pocket. Luke, who had finally reappeared with two cups of coffee, pointed tersely at the taped up sign on the wall. 

"No cell phones in the diner." 

"Right," Robert nodded dismissively. He stepped closer to Rory, dropping an absent kiss on her cheek. "I'll be right back." Turning on his heel, he swept out of the diner, the door closing behind him with a clang.  

Jess waited until the coast was clear before handing Rory a paper napkin. "Nice guy."

If Rory had picked up on the sarcasm in Jess's words, she made no comment. Instead, she sat down beside her father, her eyes troubled as she took a careful sip of her coffee. "Well, he's got a lot on his mind right now, so…" 

"Yeah, sure," Lorelai nodded, pushing the remainders of her breakfast around the plate. 

"Really," Rory insisted, as though her mother had disagreed. "He's a great guy, once you get to know him." 

"I'm sure he is," Tristan muttered, loud enough for Jess and Dean to hear. 

"He's just really busy with his work and everything," Rory rushed on, placing her coffee cup on the counter with a thud.

"Whoa there, Rory," Christopher squeezed his daughter's shoulders comfortingly. "Don't worry about it." 

"Sorry about that, folks," Robert said, rejoining the group a few minutes later. "Business call. You know how it is." 

"Of course," Tristan nodded solemnly, and Dean grinned. 

Looking at Rory, Robert smiled. "So, how about you take me around this quaint little town of yours, sweetie?"

Tristan arched an eyebrow. "_Quaint_?"

"Not my definition of Stars Hollow, but what the hell," Jess shrugged. 

"Sure," Rory nodded, unaware of the exchange between Jess and Tristan. "Just let me finish up my coffee."

"Actually," Robert corrected, "I was thinking we could go now, because I have a meeting to attend in a few hours, so I won't be able to hang around for very long." 

"Oh?" Rory's face fell. "You're working? But it's a Sunday!"

"Tell that to my business partners," Robert replied, trying to sound contrite. 

"Well then," Rory sighed. "Mom, Dad, do you mind if–"

"Oh no, not at all!" Lorelai answered, smiling encouragingly. "Go on, go have fun." 

"We'll see you back home for lunch," Christopher added. 

"Okay." Getting off her seat, Rory shot one last smile at the others. "See you guys later." 

A chorus of goodbyes went around the small group, and they looked on as Robert walked out of the diner once again, Rory following meekly behind. Once the couple was safely outside, Lorelai thumped her mug down emphatically. 

"I don't like that man." 

"Trust me," Jess smirked. "No one does." 

"Do you know anything about him?" Dean demanded, his headache and nausea forgotten. 

"Well, I met his dad a few years ago at a business function," Christopher offered. 

"What was he like?" Lorelai wanted to know. 

"A carbon copy of his son, I'm afraid," Christopher shrugged. "It must be a father-son thing." 

"And to think, my grandkids might end up like that," Lorelai shuddered. "Ugh!" 

"Come on," Tristan sighed, frustrated. "Someone's got to know _something_ about him!"

"You think we haven't tried digging up some dirt on him?" Lorelai gave him a sidelong glance. "It's pointless! The guy's about as interesting as a bowl of pudding. No seedy double life. No secret gambling problem or alcohol addiction. No love child hidden away in Wisconsin. Absolutely no juicy gossip about him." 

"Lorelai," Christopher said, struggling to keep his amusement in check.

"No more coffee for you," Luke grumbled, attempting to pull away Lorelai's half-empty mug.

"No!" Lorelai slapped Luke's hands away, indignant. "Evil man! Never will you convince me to renounce my coffee!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Have you been reading Rory's dictionary again?"

"I may have," she grinned, taking another gulp of her coffee. Seeing Tristan rise from his seat, she looked up in surprise. "Leaving already, Tristan?"

"Yeah," he smiled, placing some notes on the counter. 

"Where're you off to?" Jess inquired. 

"Nothing much – meeting some friends, having lunch with my parents, digging up some dirt on Rory's fiancé," Tristan smiled coolly, paying no attention to the expressions on the faces of the others. "See you around." 

Dean watched him leave. "So what, he's Sherlock Holmes now?" 

"Apparently so," Christopher concurred. 

"Think he'll find anything good?" Lorelai asked, her voice hopeful. 

Leaning against the counter, Jess folded his arms, a knowing smile spread across his face. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	14. In Between Contraband Fries and Coming U...

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

**A/N: Wow, I finally made it past the 100-review mark! Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed – you guys rock! And sorry for making you wait so long for the next couple of instalments, I've been busy with classes and assignments, blah blah blah. You know how it gets. **

*****

**Cheers**

**Chapter 14:** **In Between Contraband Fries and** **Coming Up Empty**

"So it turns out the whole detective thing is tougher than it looks," Tristan confessed a few days later, over his second cup of coffee. Dean and Jess didn't say a word – they merely exchanged knowing looks before going back to what they'd been doing before. It was a lazy Thursday afternoon, and they were gathered in Luke's, as had become their daily ritual. With less than a month left to the wedding, all three of them were beginning to feel the strain. Even Lorelai had stooped to the habit of haranguing Tristan over the phone, demanding to know if he'd procured any information on Rory's intolerable fiancé. 

Jess glanced up from the book he'd been reading. "Care to elucidate?"

"I mean," Tristan ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, "you'd think it'd be easy to find information on someone from such a prominent family. But this is turning out to be way more complicated than I'd anticipated." 

"What've you got so far?" Dean queried, propping his elbows on the counter as he concentrated on his food. 

"The usual run-of-the-mill stuff," Tristan waved a hand dismissively. "A couple of speeding tickets, things like that." He smiled wanly. "I forgot to mention that money hides a multitude of sins."

"So it seems," Jess averred. "Anything else?" 

"Not right now," Tristan shrugged. "I'm still running some checks on him though, but I won't be getting the results back for at least a couple more days." 

"Damn." Dean shook his head. "Looks like you're set for a few more nights of misery, Gilmore-style." 

"Don't even remind me," Tristan groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I'm still trying to figure out how she got my number in the first place!" 

"Let me tell you a little something, man to man," Dean leaned forward seriously. "From experience, I can vouch for this – never underestimate Lorelai Gilmore. The powers of her persuasion are a force to be reckoned with." 

As if on cue, Lorelai herself floated into the diner, just in time to catch the last part of Dean's sage advice. "Well said, Yoda. Hey Luke, I'll have a coffee to go! Okay then," she swung around to the young men. "What's going on here, hmm? Council meeting?" 

"And hello to you too, Lorelai," Jess broke in smoothly, the trademark smirk spread across his face as he mock-saluted her with his book. 

"So…" Lorelai plopped down on a spare seat. "What's shakin', Tristan?" 

"Cut to the chase, Lorelai," he grumbled, pushing his cup forward for a refill. There didn't seem to be any point in beating about the bush, as far as he was concerned. 

"Okay, fine," the woman grinned. "Got any juicy tidbits for me? You know, something to soothe my pre-mother-in-law jitters? And to give you a good, _undisturbed_ sleep tonight?" 

"Remind me to get an unlisted phone number tomorrow," Tristan griped. 

"Okay Chippy, less with the small talk, and on with the good stuff!"  Lorelai ordered, rubbing her hands together with anticipation. 

"That's the thing," Tristan tiredly informed her. "I checked up on him. Zilch." 

"Zilch?" Lorelai blinked, almost uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean, _zilch_?" 

Tristan searched the air above him for the patience he knew he would need in order to get through the rest of the conversation. "Exactly that. Zilch. Nada. Zip. Nothing. Zero–"

"You know what, Word Boy, I got it the first time around," Lorelai snapped, drumming her fingers on the counter. "Just tell me, are you sure you have absolutely nothing on this guy?"

"Some speeding tickets, nothing else," Tristan reluctantly admitted. 

"A-ha!" Lorelai snapped her fingers gleefully. "So maybe we could blackmail him with that! Yeah, we could go over to his house, you know, and slap him with all the documents, and scare the living daylights out of him, and–"

"Lorelai," Luke walked up, coffee pot in hand. "You're not talking about pulling another one of your stunts on Taylor, are you? Remember what happened the last time you tried anything on him?" 

"Yeah, yeah," Lorelai waved him away. "No big deal, Luke. Moving along now–"

Tristan looked over at Luke curiously. "What happened?"  

"We were at the town meeting," the older man explained. "Taylor was rambling about some town beautification project he wanted to get working on, and someone started throwing cold French fries at him about four rows from the front." 

"And Taylor went off about how I was disrupting the proceedings," Lorelai said, making a face. "He made me stay back, and he gave me this lecture about the dangers of mishandling contraband fries at an official Stars Hollow town meeting. It was torture." Shaking her head, she snapped back to the present. "But that's beside the point. We're actually talking about the million and one ways we're going to torture Rory's fiancé once we find some really good dirt on him." 

To say the expression on Luke's face was one of great disapproval would be an understatement. "Lorelai…"

"But I don't like him!" she whined in response, her lower lip sticking out in a petulant pout. "He's mean to Rory! And he made fun of Colonel Clucker the first time he came over! He's a mean man!"

"Colonel Clucker?" Tristan whispered uncertainly to Jess and Dean.

"The stuffed bird Rory has in her room," Dean quickly supplied before shifting his attention back to the exchange between Lorelai and Luke. 

"And you know what you should do the next time Rory brings him here?" Lorelai was saying, her eyes shining with mischief. 

A wary look crept across Luke's countenance. "What? Spike his coffee?" 

"I admire your thinking, but actually…" Lorelai grinned evilly. "I was talking about you putting him in a headlock." 

That did it – Tristan could no longer hold in the laughter he'd been trying to suppress. "A headlock?" 

"No," Luke backed away. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Oh, come on!" Lorelai jumped up and sprung behind the counter, effectively blocking Luke's path. "You did it to Dean before! Why won't you do it to Robert? What's Dean got that Robert doesn't?" 

"I don't even want to answer that," Luke said, his eyes darting frantically around the diner for an escape route.

"Hey, this afternoon is turning out to be more interesting than I thought," Jess murmured, putting down his book. 

"A typical day at Luke's," Dean shrugged, helping himself to the coffee pot that stood unguarded on the counter. 

"Lorelai's chasing Luke around the diner, and she's trying to convince him to inflict bodily harm on Rory's fiancé," Tristan said, swivelling around in his seat for a better view. "How is this typical?" 

"Believe me," Jess's smile was lopsided as he replenished his cup. "This _is_ typical."

"Anyway," Dean deftly changed the subject. "What about the background check you're running on Robert?" 

"Oh yeah," Tristan tore his napkin absently. "As I said before, the results will take a few more days. But in the meantime, I'm meeting some people in Boston tomorrow. It might bring up something interesting, who knows?" 

Dean looked impatient. "Hey, if your first check turned nothing up on Robert, what makes you so sure you're going to find something the second time around?"

"I'm not sure it's going to bring up anything," Tristan wearily sighed. "But there's no harm in looking again, right?" 

"No." Dean followed Lorelai and Luke's progress around the half-empty diner. "I guess not." 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	15. In The Still of the Night

**Disclaimer: Wish I did own GG, but I don't. Sniff. However, I think Lord Byron is a splendid old chap for allowing me to pop his poem 'She Walks In Beauty' into my humble little story. **

*** **

**Cheers**

**Chapter 15: In The Still of the Night**

Another night in Stars Hollow. Another night of being alone. Not that he minded. Really, he didn't. 

Jess frowned, putting down the paperback he'd been reading. Where had _that_ thought come from?  Shifting from his position on the wooden bridge, he shook his head. As he allowed his eyes to roam across the page he'd been staring at for the past ten minutes, his lips quirked in a small smile. 

_She walks in beauty, like the night_

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
  
_

The crickets continued their symphony around him, seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil. The moon glowed in the midnight skies above, illuminating the scene with its milky brilliance. 

_And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes,_

_Thus mellow'd to that tender light  
which heaven to gaudy day denies._

Sighing impatiently, Jess placed the dog-eared book beside him. There was no point in continuing, anyway. He knew the entire poem – no, the entire _volume_ – by heart.   _  
  
_

_One shade the more, one ray the less,  
Had half impair'd the nameless grace  
Which waves in every raven tress,  
Or softly lightens o'er her face–_

"Hey, what're you doing here?" 

Snapping out of his reverie, Jess tilted his head. "Might I ask the same thing?" 

Rory sat down beside him, her small hands pulling her coat tighter around her. "I couldn't sleep." Peering down between them, she raised her eyebrows curiously. "What's that?" 

"Byron," Jess explained curtly, glancing away. 

"I thought you didn't read poetry." 

"I make an exception for Byron," Jess responded. The pair sat in companionable silence for a moment before Rory cleared her throat. 

"So, um…" She fiddled self-consciously with her hair, her brow furrowed. "What's the book about?"

Hiding a smile, Jess was amused by Rory's feeble attempt at conversation. "It's a collection of Byron's works." 

"Is it good?"

"Yeah," Jess shrugged casually, offhandedly. This was an aspect of their friendship that he was used to. In as long as he'd known her, their exchanges always included a thorough dissertation of whatever book either of them had happened to read prior to their tête-à-têtes. It was habitual, something they'd both come to expect. In truth, Jess actually looked forward to this part of their interactions, for two reasons. To start with, Rory was just about the only person in the entire town of Stars Hollow whose voracious reading habits matched – or perhaps even surpassed – his own. And secondly, long spirited debates on books were always neutral ground. It didn't take him long to learn one simple truth: discussing Literature with Rory was preferable to having emotionally charged heart-to-hearts. Unlike her previous boyfriends (i.e. Dean), talking about feelings made him physically sick, which was why he made it a point to steer clear of the topic as often as he could. 

Rory's voice crept across the dreamy twilight. "Any favourites out of the whole book?"

"Mm-hmm." Jess felt a smile tugging at his lips, wistful.    

_  
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,  
But tell of days in goodness spent,  
A mind at peace with all below,  
A heart whose love is innocent._

"_She Walks In Beauty_." 

Jess blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "What?" 

"The poem," Rory explained. Seeing the perplexed expression on Jess's face, she frowned. "That verse you just read to me, it's _She Walks In Beauty_, isn't it?"

Dear Lord. Had he really just spaced out and recited lines from a Byron poem to Rory Gilmore? He would have blamed it on liquor if he could, but given the fact that he was as sober as he could possibly get, there was no simple explanation as to why his subconscious had chosen that particular verse to serenade her with. He glanced about again. On second thought, the atmosphere did seem to be conducive to spontaneous poetry recitations (or in this case, a sudden lapse in his thought processes). "Uh, yeah."

Silence. 

Jess threw a sidelong glance at Rory. "So…"  

"So," Rory prompted, grinning in return. "Hey, you never told me what it's been like living in the Big Apple all this time." 

"It's okay," Jess shrugged. "The City That Never Sleeps. Need I say more?" 

"No, you pretty much summed it up," Rory teased. 

Jess laughed along with her, but then his features grew serious again. "Rory, about what happened the last time–"

"Oh no, that's ancient history," Rory waved his words away. "Let's just put it behind us." 

"Yeah, well," Jess looked down. "I just wanted to, you know…I wanted to say I'm sorry. For what happened." 

Rory's words drifted across the peaceful night. "I'm sorry too." 

Leaning back on his hands, Jess closed his eyes briefly, his mind floating back to times long forgotten. And then he called forth memories of the day that brought about his decision to leave Stars Hollow for good all those years ago. There had been that horrible argument with Rory. There had been tears and recrimination, and ultimately he'd packed up and left. It had been as simple as that. As rash as his decision had been in retrospect, Jess knew it was a choice that he'd had to make. So he'd left. And to his surprise, it turned out to be exactly what he'd needed to clear his head. Gone was the bitter, jaded misfit he once was, to be replaced by someone stronger, better, wiser. And of course, he had Rory Gilmore to thank for that. 

"What're you thinking about?" Rory suddenly asked, breaking through Jess's thoughts. 

"Just – oh, nothing," he smiled. "So how're you feeling? You know, with the wedding coming up and all."

"I'm not sure," Rory said, her voice soft as she tugged at the sleeve of her coat. 

Jess raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I had a talk with Robert this morning, and…" she paused, almost reluctantly. "He doesn't want me working once we get married." 

"Really?" Jess sat upright again. "What're you going to do?" 

"I have no idea," Rory sighed. "He seemed pretty resolute on that point."

"So what, you're just going to cave in?" Jess stared at Rory incredulously. "What happened to being a journalist for CNN?" 

"I still want to do that," Rory asserted, though her face was shadowed with worry. "It's just that Robert said–"

"Forget about what Robert said!" Jess exclaimed. "It's your life! Since when does he have full authority on what _you_ want to do?" 

"Starting from the moment I become Mrs. Robert Matheson," Rory tried to joke, but it came out sounding wrong somehow, inappropriate for the seriousness of the situation. 

"So is that what you're going to do?" Jess turned to her. "Forget about being what you've always wanted to be and become a stay-at-home wife instead?" 

Rory frowned. "Stop making it sound so…"

"Bad?" Jess offered, and when Rory nodded, he looked at her earnestly. "I'm not making it sound bad, I'm simply highlighting the fact that it _is_ bad. This guy wants you to sacrifice your dreams for him. How could it not be bad?" 

"Give me a break, Jess!" Rory threw up her hands in frustration. "I'm just so confused by all this!" 

"Rory," Jess said, choosing his words carefully. "Marriage is a big step. You can't make your decisions based on a whim." 

"I know that," Rory started, but Jess motioned for her to listen. 

"And Robert is asking for a big thing here. But tell me this," Jess fixed his gaze on her. "Are you really sure you're willing to give up everything for him?"

"I–" Rory stared at Jess helplessly. "I don't know." 

"Well…" Jess regarded her seriously. "I'd say this gives you something to think about, don't you agree?" 

"Yeah," Rory glanced down, her expression distressed. "You're right." 

*** **

**To Be Continued…**


	16. Secrets On the Green

**Disclaimer:  Check the last couple of chapters.**

*****

**Cheers**

**Chapter 16:** **Secrets On the Green**

"Fore!" 

Taking a step back as he watched the ball sail in a graceful arc across the air, Tristan felt a smile of satisfaction steal across his face. Another perfect day in the Hartford Country Club, and another perfect shot. Life was good.

"Nice aim," Tristan heard a voice behind him say. Turning around, he caught a glimpse of the merry-eyed gentleman standing a little further off, dressed in similar golfing attire.  

Abandoning his game, Tristan walked over to the elderly man. "Good morning, Mr. Rosenbaum. How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, Mr. DuGrey," Allen Rosenbaum responded, a deferential smile on his lips. He was, in fact, a long-time business partner of the DuGrey family, and Tristan had nothing but admiration for the man, who throughout his career had earned the reputation of being a hard-hitting deal driver, thanks to his numerous successful wheelings and dealings. "And yourself?" 

"Oh, I'm doing great." Tristan gestured to the golf course behind him. "Care to join me for a few rounds?"

Taking a moment to inspect his golf clubs, Mr. Rosenbaum nodded. "I believe I will take you up on that offer."

Three hours and several holes later, Tristan was all but ready to retire to the club's saloon. On the way back to the club, Mr. Rosenbaum grinned slyly at Tristan. "I heard that Richard Gilmore's granddaughter is engaged to Robert Matheson." 

"The wedding's in a few weeks," Tristan said, his brow creasing in a frown. 

Mr. Rosenbaum took in the younger man's tense expression. "And you're not pleased."

Tristan stopped. "I – what makes you say that?"

"I'm psychic," Mr. Rosenbaum joked. "And it helped that you had a scowl on your face when I brought it up. I don't blame you, of course. It is my honest opinion that Robert Matheson is an arrogant, uncouth hooligan." 

"That's a mild way of putting it," Tristan smiled grimly. "And what worries me even more is that no one seems to know anything about him." 

The elderly gentleman scrutinized Tristan's face. "Perhaps you're not looking in the right places." 

"I've tried running searches on him, and I've asked around. I spent two days in Boston trying to track down someone who might know something about Robert," Tristan explained. "But I've got nothing so far." 

"Should that come as a surprise to you?" Mr. Rosenbaum raised his eyebrows. "My dear boy, you won't find anything on Robert Matheson, no matter how hard you try. Let's just say a small fortune was spent keeping all of Robert's past indiscretions under wraps. Ah yes, money hides a multitude of sins, and Robert is proof of that." 

A sense of déjà vu overcame Tristan as he heard the words he'd spoken to Jess and Dean a few days before being thrown back at him. "So you're saying that his family spent a fortune covering up – what? What could Robert possibly be hiding?" 

"Everyone has their dirty secrets," Mr. Rosenbaum mysteriously replied. "Robert simply has a lot more of them than you'd imagine. But what's in the past is in the past. Let's leave it at that, eh?"  Catching sight of the rebellious look on Tristan's face, the man chuckled. "Although I see you're not prepared to do that just yet." 

"In a few weeks, my friend will be marrying this guy," Tristan said, the worry evident in his voice. "How can I just sit back and watch the show when this might be the biggest mistake she could ever make?"

"You really do care about her, don't you?" Mr. Rosenbaum shook his head, his words sounding more like a statement than a question. 

"That's the strange thing about it," Tristan's lips twitched in a glum smile. "As weird as it sounds, given the circumstances, I do care about Rory Gilmore, and I don't want to see her get hurt." 

"I'm not entirely sure if I should be doing this, but…" Mr. Rosenbaum was silent for a moment, looking deep in thought. Finally, he glanced up. "Have you ever heard of INFO Corp.?" 

"Yes, a few times," Tristan said. "But my firm has never had any dealings with them. Why do you ask? What does it have to do with–"

"INFO Corp. is headed by Colin Matheson and Martin Compton." Mr. Rosenbaum interrupted, taking in the confused look in Tristan's eyes. "Father and grandfather of Robert Matheson respectively."

"I still don't get it," Tristan confessed, his tone bemused.

"If you've been doing your homework and keeping track of the market, you'll know that INFO Corp. has been hankering after a merger with Hayden-Gilmore Enterprises since time immemorial."

Tristan's eyes widened as the final piece of the puzzle shifted into place. "That's the company Rory's dad owns. And Rory's granddad is the deputy manager. So if Robert marries into the family, that would mean…" 

"Exactly," Mr. Rosenbaum nodded his approval. "Well done, Mr. DuGrey." 

"That's – I mean…" Speechless, Tristan shook his head with amazement. "I should have known." 

"And I'll probably burn on the rack for telling you all this," Mr. Rosenbaum smiled ruefully. "Thirty years of business ethics, gone straight out the window. The scrapes I get myself in!" He glanced at Tristan. "But if it helps you out–"

"And it does," Tristan affirmed. "Thank you, Mr. Rosenbaum. I appreciate this."

"You're welcome." The old man patted Tristan's arm briefly. "One more thing, Mr. DuGrey. What you ultimately choose to do with what I've told you is completely your decision. I hope you're aware of the possible repercussions that might arise should this information be misused."

"I understand," Tristan nodded firmly. 

The serious look on Mr. Rosenbaum's face was replaced with a smile. "Now let's put this behind us for the moment. What do you say we go get something to drink?" 

Tristan grinned. "Absolutely."

As they slowly made their way back to the club, Tristan's mind was awhirl with all the new information he'd been given. Of all the things he'd been expecting, this situation definitely wasn't one of them. He hid a smile. 

_Just wait till Jess and Dean hear about this! _

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	17. Reminiscing

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

**A/N: Okay, after a prolonged case of writer's block, I've finally gotten the hang of writing this story again. Sorry it took me so darn long to update! I'll try to add new chapters more regularly from now on, I promise. **

*** **

**Cheers**

**Chapter 17:** **Reminiscing**

Life always had a habit of catching you off guard.  

Dean knew this. After all, his life was a perfect example of it. But he always tried to see it positively, to consider it all a test of character. Of course, he knew a select few (i.e. Jess) who would have laughed outright at that and insist that being caught with your guard down was simply a side effect of Nature's vicious sense of humour. 

It was a Friday night. He was on the way home after grabbing a bite to eat at Luke's. And in retrospect, it seemed inevitable that it would happen. 

Life always had a habit of catching you off guard. 

But that still didn't make it any less surprising when he rounded the corner and collided head-on into Rory. 

"Oof!"

"Ouch!" 

Dean's brows wrinkled as he peered down anxiously at Rory. "Hey, are you alright?" 

"Yeah," Rory nodded, her wince of pain softening into a smile.  

And then, of course, there was the second surprise: Rory was alone. 

"Where's Robert?" Dean asked, his tone casual. 

Instead of defending her fiancé's absence with a lengthy explanation, Rory simply shrugged. "He had some work to finish up in Boston."  

Shocker. 

"So, um–" Dean looked around awkwardly. "Where're you off to?" 

"Nowhere," Rory shrugged. "And you?" 

Dean smiled. "Nowhere." 

"Well then…" Rory gazed up at him, her eyes contemplative. "Want to go for a walk?"

Dean paused. On one hand, he'd already made plans to call it an early night, maybe even catch up on his reading. But then again, when was the last time he actually had the opportunity to hang out with Rory? And in that split second, he made his decision. "Sure." 

Life always had a habit of catching you off guard. He had certainly demonstrated that. 

"You know what I've always loved about Stars Hollow?" Rory asked a few minutes later, as the pair slowly made their way through the quiet town. A balmy breeze swept down the length of the street, filling the atmosphere with the rustling of the trees that lined the walkway. Inhaling deeply, Dean felt a rare inexplicable calm settling across his consciousness, and for a moment, he tried to remember when he'd last felt this way. It seemed like a lifetime ago, anyhow. 

He turned to glance at Rory. "Shoot."

"Just the way everything around here stays the same," Rory smiled wistfully, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's like no matter how much I grow up and change inside, this town is always going to remain exactly the way I remember it. It's sort of comforting, in a way."

Dean looked around him thoughtfully. "Reminds you of the good ol' days, huh?" 

"But then I wonder if I'm clinging to the _good ol' days_ a little too tenaciously." Rory paused, looking somewhat embarrassed. "That sounds silly, doesn't it? Holding onto the past when I should be looking forward to the future." 

"Of course it's not silly," Dean said, his words assuring. "_I__t's not so much that we're afraid of change; it's that place in between that we fear. It's like being between trapezes – there's nothing to hold on to._"  

Rory looked at him curiously. "Who said that?" 

"Marilyn Ferguson," Dean grinned.

"Ah." 

They continued to walk on in amicable silence, both immersed in their own thoughts. Neither felt the need to fill the lull with polite conversation; both were content simply to listen to the muted sounds of the surroundings, to enjoy being in each other's company.   

Suddenly Rory turned to Dean. "You know, you never told me what living in Chicago was like." 

He frowned in confusion. _Chicago?_ And then he remembered. It was all there right beneath the surface, just waiting for the right moment to burst forth once again. Dean smiled. "Chicago was…fine." 

"Why did you leave, anyway?" Rory tilted her head. "I know you got that job offer and everything, but I never thought…" She broke off, her cheeks burning pink. 

Dean raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What?"    

"I never thought you'd give up everything here and move on," Rory said slowly, hesitantly. 

Dean digested this piece of information as the memories came flooding back to him. It was all there right beneath the surface, even though he'd often tried to pretend it wasn't. He knew why he'd moved away, but did he really want to spoil this great balance he'd finally gained hold of with Rory by telling her the truth? "I figured it was time for a change." Granted, it was only half the truth, but it was infinitely better than telling Rory the whole story. How could he possibly explain, anyway? 

_Do you want to know the truth? Do you want to know why I left? _

_I needed to get away from you. Away from the knowledge that you'd ultimately chosen Jess instead me all those years ago. Away from the not-so-subtle sympathies of everyone in Stars Hollow. Away from the apologetic glances from Lorelai. Away from feeling like a washout. Away from constantly being made aware of my failure.   _

_Do you want to know the truth, Rory? _

_I wanted to go through one day without being reminded of it, of this – of you. _

_One day of normality, of blessed forgetfulness…that was all I wanted. That was what I found away from Stars Hollow._

Was it possible for him to reveal any of this without dumping the blame on her and making her feel bad, without making himself look like the tragic ex-boyfriend wronged? He guessed not. It was a no-win situation from whichever way you looked at it. 

"A change, huh?" Rory lapsed into silence as she thought this over. Mercifully, she seemed to be sufficiently satisfied with his vague answer. Now she looked over at him curiously. "So what made you decide to come back to Stars Hollow?"

That was a simple enough question for Dean, and he grinned slightly. "I wanted to see you get married."

She should have known, really. She should have known that no matter where he went, no matter how far away he was or how swiftly time slipped away, all roads would eventually lead him back to Stars Hollow. To her. Rory Gilmore could never be confined to being merely an aspect of his past, he knew that much. Walking beside her in the comforting darkness, Dean allowed himself the luxury of reflecting on all the ups and downs they'd both had to endure to reach this place, this moment. All the good times in his young life, all the bad – it had all happened with her, this elusive, radiant danceaway sprite of the luminous blue eyes and beautiful, innocent smile. A part of him was surprised by the clarity with which he remembered the sweet feather-light kisses from long ago; the whispered _I love you's_; the shared, secret smiles. It all came rushing back, clear as day, sharp as glass. But with age comes a certain measure of maturity, and so, he wisely made no mention of his inner turmoil, choosing instead to smile and make himself as agreeable as possible. It was easier that way. Better to say things were okay, rather than mess everything up by being melodramatic and honest. Some things you could never tell, after all. 

"Dean?" 

Hearing his name, he roused himself out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"  

"What're you thinking of?" Rory shook her head, a smile dancing on her lips as she took in the absent look in Dean's eyes. "You look like you're a million miles away." 

"I must've zoned out," Dean said. The last thing he wanted was to go into specifics with Rory about precisely what he'd been thinking about. "So how're things with you and Robert?" He glanced over at Rory, taking in the sudden change in her expression. "What?"

"Nothing," Rory ducked her head, trying to avoid Dean's gaze. Seeing the scepticism in his face, she relented. "Fine. So maybe things with Robert haven't been going as smoothly as I'd prefer. It's nothing major." 

Dean felt his eyebrow quirk. "Really?"

"Yes. Really." Dean didn't miss the defensive note in Rory's voice, but he chose not to call her on it. She looked at him almost defiantly, as though challenging him to disagree. He didn't know whom she was trying to fool, but he definitely wasn't falling for it. Still, if Rory wanted Dean to believe that her relationship with her fiancé was all sunshine and roses, then he'd go along with it.  

"Okay then," he nodded amiably, walking ahead of Rory, hands in his pockets. It took him a moment to realize that Rory was no longer keeping pace beside him, so he stopped and turned around. "Rory? What is it?" 

Her words tumbled out like a torrent in the still of the night, anxious, unrestrained. "Alright, so I lied. Things with Robert are…horrible." Allowing Dean to steer her to the nearest bench, Rory fretfully tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I don't know, he's always so uptight. It's like the only thing he cares about is his work." She turned unhappy eyes to him. "Do you remember how it used to be when you and I were dating?" 

Leaning against the backrest of the seat, Dean nodded. "We had fun." 

"Exactly. We had fun. And we understood each other." Rory sighed, her face troubled. "I can't do that with Robert, you know? He doesn't understand me, not really. And sometimes, I don't think I understand him either. I can't joke around with him the way I can with, well, you." Her shoulders sagged. "And then I have to wonder why I have a better relationship with you than I do with the man I'm about to spend the rest of my life with."

"Well…" Dean searched his brain for something appropriate to say, something sympathetic, something that would let Rory know he understood what she meant, but he came up empty. 

"Of course, there's the whole thing about my getting a job," Rory continued. "Am I really supposed to forget about everything I've planned for my life, just because Robert disapproves?" She shook her head, as though disgusted. "You know what's scary? I don't even know why I want to marry Robert any more. What am I supposed to do about that?" 

"Sometimes one or both parties have to give up a part of themselves to make a relationship work." Dean glanced at Rory meditatively. "But the question is, how much of yourself do you want to give up for Robert?"

A wry smile crept across Rory's face. "Jess asked me the same thing the other day." 

"It's a reasonable question." Dean sat up straighter. "Have you ever thought about it?" 

Avoiding Dean's gaze, Rory looked down at her hands. "Not really." 

"Why not?" Dean asked, genuinely puzzled. 

Rory didn't answer immediately, but when she did, her voice was quiet. "Because I'm not sure I'll like the answer." 

Sitting there side by side on the bench under the cover of the night, they fell silent again, both not knowing what to say to each other. Eventually, Dean turned and grinned at Rory. "It's kind of surreal that we're doing this." 

"Doing what?" Rory wanted to know. 

"I'm playing counsellor a few weeks before your wedding." Seeing the perplexity on Rory's face, Dean tried to elaborate. "It's weird, that's all. I never imagined myself doing this." 

Rory tilted her head slightly. "Neither did I."

Another brief silence, and then Dean heard Rory's voice creep across the descending twilight. "Dean?" 

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

She smiled at him then, a sunny smile, a _Rory_ smile. "I'm really glad you came back."  

"So am I, Rory." Reaching for her hand, Dean squeezed her fingers comfortingly. "So am I."

*

**To Be Continued…**


	18. Making Decisions

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

*** **

**Cheers**

**Chapter 18:** **Making Decisions**

"So that's Rosenheim's theory, huh?"

"You mean _Rosenbaum_."

"Yeah. Whatever." Jess's tone was impatient, his expression bored. "So that's his hypothesis?"

Tristan looked over at his friend, more than a little annoyed. "Yes, it is."

"I see." A few seconds went by before the all-too-familiar smirk appeared on Jess's face. "A little cliché, don't you think?"

"What do you mean, _cliché_?" Tristan demanded to know. 

"Let's review, shall we?" Jess leaned back against his seat, both hands behind his head. "We've got Rory, and then there's scumbag Robert. And according to Rosenbaum, Scumbag's only interested in Rory's financial assets."

"Yes, but–" 

"Face it Tristan, we're not talking about some rerun from _The Bold and the Beautiful_ here." There was another infuriating smile. "And even if we were, the whole bad-guy-goes-after-unsuspecting-rich-girl's-family-fortune angle is _so_ last season."

Seeing the spark of rebellion in Tristan's eyes, Dean cleared his throat. Now would be a good time as any to intervene. "Jess has a good point there. Even if I do find the soap opera reference a little disturbing."

"Fine." Sulkily, Tristan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "Got any better theories then, _Mariano_?" 

"Nope." Jess shrugged, seemingly oblivious of the scathing look Tristan sent his way. The three of them continued to sit in silence for a few more minutes, Jess complacently taking in the muted sounds of the television in front of him; Tristan obstinately silent, his fingers drumming the armrest; Dean sitting in his corner, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. Finally, Dean looked up. 

"You know, maybe we shouldn't be so quick to dismiss Tristan's theory. It does make sense." Seeing the questioning look on Jess's face, Dean went on to elaborate. "First off, _nobody_ knows anything about Robert. And then there's the whole thing about INFO Corp. and the merger–" 

"Don't forget to add Rory's last-minute doubts about the wedding to the list," Jess interjected, a note of relish in his voice. 

"That too," Dean nodded. "It's obvious Robert's only in it for the money, and Rory herself said she doesn't even know why she's marrying him in the first place. It adds up." 

"It _has_ to add up," Tristan replied, shaking his head. "We don't have anything else to go on."

"Right." Dean nodded vigorously. "Now the question is: what are we supposed to do?" 

"It's kind of obvious, don't you think?" Tristan's voice was wry as he sat up straighter. "We have to tell Rory." 

Dean paused. "Tell Rory?" 

"Of course we've got to tell her," Tristan continued, unaware of the frown on Dean's face. "She's about to make the biggest mistake of her life, and we're the only ones who can put a stop to it."

"I'm with DuGrey on that," Jess broke in firmly, his tone decisive. 

Tristan smirked. "_That's_ got to be a first."

"Come on, you guys," Dean spoke up, cutting across Jess's sharp retort. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"

"What?" Tristan turned incredulous eyes in Dean's direction. "Look Bag Boy, the only reason I wanted in on this whole Three Stooges routine in the first place was so I could break up Rory and The Jerk Extraordinaire. This is kind of a bad time for you to be feeling pangs of conscience, alright?"

"I know, I know," Dean impatiently swatted away Tristan's words. "It's just that, well, we don't have any solid proof about anything. What if we're wrong after all?"

Tristan opened his mouth to answer, but Jess gestured for him to be silent. "You know what Dean, you're right. Maybe we should wait till after they're married, when Rory's a miserable trophy wife and Robert's out gallivanting with some floozy every night. Yeah, that sounds much better, don't you think so, Tristan?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" Dean broke off, shrugging. "Okay, point made and taken." He was silent for a moment. "So when do you think we should tell her?"

"As soon as possible." Getting up, Jess threw a glance over his shoulder at the others. "How about tonight?" 

"No can do," Tristan shook his head. "I've got a dinner to attend–"

"Oh yes, another black-tie-shrimp-cocktail affair, huh?" Jess's tone was mocking. "Nothing we mere mortals could ever be expected to comprehend." 

"For God's sake, Mariano," Tristan grumbled, throwing a magazine at Jess. "Will you ever stop giving me grief over my roots?" 

"Okay, so tonight's not a good time," Dean smoothly cut in. Several weeks of hanging out with Curly and Moe, and he'd already become an expert at alleviating potential bust-ups. "When do you think we should do it then?" 

"How about tomorrow?" Jess permitted himself to smirk once more. "Unless Blue Blood here has another ball to attend…" 

"Up yours, Diner Boy," Tristan's voice was mild, devoid of any malice. "Tomorrow works for me. Listen," he continued, glancing at his watch as he stood up and walked to the front door, "I have to go. So I'll see you tomorrow at the diner?"

"Will do," Jess affirmed. "And hey, don't forget to bring us some of those delightful raspberry tarts from the dessert display, okay?" But his only answer was the slamming of the door. 

* 

**To Be Continued…**


	19. Reliving the Past

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

*** **

**Cheers**

**Chapter 19: Reliving the Past**

Yet another party, and Tristan was, to put it simply, bored out of his mind. Every one of these get-togethers only served to remind him of the tediousness of the life already planned out for him, of the life he would forever be doomed to: a never-ending charade of black-tie events, of single-minded ruthlessness and frivolity hidden behind polite, cultured conversation and smiling, agreeable faces. Then again, maybe it wasn't all that bad. Maybe. _Someone shoot me, please._

Shaking off his gloomy thoughts, Tristan picked up another glass of champagne and proceeded to make the rounds, saying hello to his hosts, exchanging trivial bits of news with fellow guests, looking the part of the bored, sophisticated but nonetheless utterly charming young man of estimable breeding and social standing. Jess Mariano would have undoubtedly been highly amused by the entire proceeding.  

Walking up the grand staircase of his hosts' impressive home, Tristan allowed his gaze to wander briefly over the guests gathered in the foyer below him before dismissing them just as quickly. Slipping past a well-dressed couple on their way downstairs, Tristan presently found himself standing the doorway of a darkened empty room. Straining his eyes, he looked around and located the 'On' switch on a side panel. 

Light flooded the massive room as he looked around impassively, running his eyes over the huge tapestries and gilded framed portraits hanging on the walls. A piano stood in the corner silently, a symbol of the past – his past. Images of his youth flitted across his consciousness, along with vague recollections of young love thwarted. Walking slowly in the direction of the piano, Tristan allowed himself to smile at the irony of it all.

The memories were clearer now, and he could once again feel the longing and frustrations he'd felt as a brash, arrogant sixteen year old, a prince in the shallow, confusing world of the Hartford elite. In a sense, Rory Gilmore had been the one to save him. She'd shattered the illusions he'd clung to, the false ideals he'd been expected to uphold, and she'd made him see a whole new world beyond the one he'd been ensconced in. And although it had taken him a long time to admit it, although it had taken him a long time to make peace with his tumultuous, unresolved past with her, Tristan now knew that she had been his saviour. 

He sat down at the piano, absently running his fingers across the ivory keys, recalling the half-forgotten music lessons of his youth. Tristan stayed this way for a few minutes, fingers moving up and down the keys with a nimbleness he thought he had long since lost. Hearing a sudden noise, he looking up sharply, frowning at the sudden unwelcome intrusion. 

"I should've known I'd find you here." 

With that simple sentence, Tristan felt his earlier hostility at being interrupted melting away, and he felt his lips quirk into a smile as he watched Rory Gilmore fidgeting by the doorway, as though she wasn't altogether sure if she should come into the room or turn and leave. "Hey."  

The faintly anxious expression on Rory's face vanished as Tristan gestured for her to come closer, and she responded with an endearing grin of her own. As she walked across the room and sat down beside him, it felt exactly as it had been all those years ago… Only things were different now. He couldn't forget that. 

She glanced at him, her eyes playful, teasing. "Kind of like old times, huh?" 

"Yeah, except that now I'm not allowed to kiss you."

They were silent for a moment, the fleeting lull filled by the sound of Tristan's fingers running lightly over the keys. Rory turned to him. "Do you know what I just realized? We never kept in touch after you left for North Carolina." 

It was a statement more than a question, and Tristan didn't quite know how to respond. Avoiding Rory's intent gaze, he pretended to focus on his hands. "Yeah well, things happened." He inwardly winced when he heard himself say that, aware of how weak it sounded. "Besides, I figured you'd be busy and wouldn't have time for me anyway." He spoke lightly, even though he meant what he'd said. 

"Get off it, Tristan," Rory rolled her eyes, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. "You know I would've done something if you'd kept in touch. But you didn't, so whose fault is that?" 

"Okay, fine," Tristan grudgingly conceded, smiling nevertheless. "It's my fault. You win." He shared in her laughter for a moment, watching as her eyes shone with merriment. He'd forgotten how nice it was to sit with Rory, to laugh with her, to just talk. He hadn't done that in awhile, and it occurred to him how much he missed that. 

"Seriously though," Rory said after their laughter had faded away. "Why didn't you keep in touch anyway?" Tristan watched with something akin to amusement as her cheeks suddenly flushed, and he smiled. 

"I don't know. I guess I was still messed up about everything." He shrugged nonchalantly as he looked at her. 

"Well…" And here Rory hesitated before blushing again. "I missed you." 

Tristan held her gaze for a split second before looking away again. "I missed you too." 

Rory leaned back on her hands as she gazed at Tristan thoughtfully. "So how was North Carolina anyway? I never had the chance to ask you what you got up to there." 

"North Carolina was hell," Tristan smiled, shaking his head at the memory. "And I got into a lot of trouble." 

"Tristan…" There was a tinge of disappointment in her eyes. 

"I was a pretty messed up kid. What can I say?" He grinned before becoming serious again. "Hey Rory?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I know I gave you a hard time for awhile in Chilton." He looked down self-consciously. "I was a jerk, and I'm sorry." 

A teasing smile tugged at the corners of Rory's mouth as she looked at Tristan. "Okay, now I'm _really_ having flashbacks to Madeline's party."  They laughed once more, and as their laughter dried up, Tristan became aware of the fact they were in danger of running out of things to say, which was something that wouldn't have ever happened had they been sixteen. It was funny, and kind of sad even, how things changed over time. 

They sat together awkwardly for a few moments, until Tristan cleared his throat and attempted to rekindle the conversation. "So, what do you want to talk about?" _Lame, lame, inexcusably lame!_

Rory sighed, conveying her annoyance in that one gusty sound. "Please, anything but the wedding. If I have to talk one more time about which florist I've hired for the wedding or how many courses there'll be to the reception dinner, I swear I'll scream." 

"Okay, fair enough." Tristan smiled mischievously. "You wanna make out then?"

She rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I've been told that a couple of times," Tristan grinned, and then let his eyes travel around the room again before settling onto Rory. "So where's Robert?" 

Was it just his imagination, or did Rory's lips tighten for a moment? "He had a previous engagement."

He nodded sympathetically. "Work, huh?"

"Yup." 

Tristan shrugged. "It figures." He waited for Rory to rush to her fiancé's defence as she always did, but she remained silent. _That's a first._ Tristan straightened up. "So how're you doing? Looking forward to the wedding?" 

An unreadable expression flashed across Rory's clear blue eyes, and then she smiled dully. "I was really excited about everything at first, but now I don't know. It's like Robert's changed. It feels like I don't know him anymore, like I'm not even sure if I… Never mind." She hesitated, shooting Tristan a nervous look. "Does this make me a bad person?"  

Tristan gazed at her earnestly for a moment. "No, it just makes you someone who wants to marry for the right reasons."

"It's crazy for me to be having second thoughts about this." Rory shifted fretfully. "Robert loves me, and I know he'll take care of me. And I'll get to be a stay-at-home mom. That's good right?" 

"It's your choice, Rory. I can't tell you what to do." Tristan looked down. "As long as you're sure this marriage is worth sacrificing your dreams for."

"I don't want to give up my dreams," Rory exclaimed heatedly before looking embarrassed for her outburst. "I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do?"

It felt awful not being able to tell Rory about his reservations, about what he suspected to be Robert's motives, but Tristan wisely kept quiet. Instead, he chose to give her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "Well, the only thing I can tell is you is to do what you feel is right. And I know you'll do the right thing in the end." 

It seemed as though there was something else Rory wanted to say, but she looked away instead, her face miserable. Taking pity on her, Tristan stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, I think it's time we rejoined the party. What do you say?" 

"Yeah," she smiled up at him, relief flooding her delicate features, relief at being able to drop the subject for the moment. "Okay." 

* 

To Be Continued… 


	20. Telling Rory

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

*** **

**Cheers**

Chapter 20: Telling Rory 

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"

"We are." 

"What if we're wrong?"

"We're not, Dean. Now shut up and ring the doorbell already." 

It was a beautiful morning, and the three men were standing on the front porch of the Gilmore home, each of them looking guilty in the face of what they were about to do. Thus chastised by Jess, Dean shrugged and did as he was told. All three stepped back at the same moment, listening to the rush of footsteps inside the house. A few seconds later, the front door was thrown open and there stood Lorelai Gilmore, beaming widely as she looked at the young men in front of her. 

"Well, hello," Lorelai grinned as she ushered them in. "And to what do we owe this honour?" 

"Hey Lorelai," Tristan greeted her, his salutation echoed by Jess and Dean. "Hope we're not interrupting anything." 

"No, not at all! We're just about to have breakfast, actually. Chris! Rory!" Lorelai turned around and called out. "Company!" 

"Hey guys," Rory smiled at them as she emerged from the kitchen, her father bringing up the rear. 

Christopher Hayden grinned as he walked over to the young men, clapping each of them heartily on the shoulder. "What's up?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Dean said, looking highly embarrassed, but Jess cut him off with a sharp glance. 

"We actually needed to talk to you," Tristan confessed, exchanging glances with the other two. "Do you have a moment?" 

"For you guys? Of course," Lorelai gaily led the way to the living room, the others in tow. "What's on your mind?"

"It's about Robert," Dean began, and he launched straight into the trio's shared suspicions with a volubility no one had expected of him. Once he'd paused to catch his breath, Tristan and Jess took it in turns to fill the amazed Gilmore family in on the details they'd collected about Rory's fiancé – everything about the possible business merger, about the secrecy surrounding Robert Matheson's past, and of their lingering doubts that Robert was only interested in marrying Rory for the wrong reasons. It wasn't quite the calm, reasonable scenario Dean had hoped for, but the end result was pretty much what he'd envisioned. By the time the trio had finished their spiel, the Gilmores were frozen in their seats, looking dumbfounded from the sheer force of all they'd been told. 

Rory looked at Jess, Tristan and Dean, her gaze a little unsteady. When she spoke at last, her voice quivered. "Is this true?" 

Jess was the first to answer her, reluctant to be the one to confirm her fears. "Yes it is." 

"We didn't want to be the ones to tell you," Tristan said quietly. "But you had to know before–"

"No!" Rory blurted out, the strength of her voice and the terrible expression on her face more than enough to silence Tristan and take everyone present by surprise. "No, it's not true! You're making this up!" 

"It's true, Rory," Dean told her gently. "It's all true. It's bad, we know, but–"

"No! That's enough! I'm not going to listen to any more of this!" Without another word, Rory jumped up and ran out of the room, ignoring her parents' pleads to calm down. They heard the ferocious slamming of a door, and a deathly calm crept over the group, filling the previously cheerful room with a rolling poison cloud of guilt. In the wake of Rory's hasty departure, Tristan couldn't help wondering: had they really done the right thing after all? 

"Well," Christopher broke the silence, shaking his head ruefully. "That was certainly…interesting." He looked at Dean, Tristan and Jess. "Are you sure about all this?" 

Dean squared his jaw. "Yes, we are."

"You're not making any of this up to wreck the wedding?" Lorelai further pressed, her otherwise merry eyes filled with apprehension. 

Tristan's voice was almost inaudible. "We're not." 

"Look," Jess spoke up heatedly, impatiently. "We're not exactly crazy about Robert, and we don't want Rory to make a choice she'll regret later, but that doesn't mean we'd just come up with all sorts of lies to try and get her to change her mind. We're not like that." 

"I know," Lorelai sighed heavily, looking tired all of a sudden. She exchanged glances with Chris. "What now?" 

He shrugged, looking every bit as perplexed as she felt. "We'll just have to wait and see, I guess. There's nothing else we can do." 

Lorelai gazed at the three uncomfortable-looking young men seated on her living room couch, and she couldn't help feeling sorry for them. It was quite a decision they'd chosen to undertake, but it was an admirable one nevertheless. It was obvious that all three of them cared deeply for her daughter, and it clearly hadn't been easy for them to do what they did. For that reason, Lorelai felt her affection deepen for each of them. 

"Don't worry, guys," she leaned forward, wanting to lessen the remorse they were evidently feeling. "You've done the right thing in telling us. It's better we know now instead of finding out way too late." 

"Well, I think it's about time we left," Jess got up, glancing pointedly at his two friends. "Sorry for dropping all this on you." 

"No, no, we appreciate it," Lorelai assured him, hugging each of them in turn. "Thank you." She and Chris watched as the young men shuffled out of the front door, and once they'd left, Lorelai sagged against her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. "Golly, that was something, wasn't it?" 

"Yeah, it sure was," Chris rubbed her shoulders gently. He smiled. "You know something, Lor? Our daughter's one lucky girl."

Lorelai looked up at him curiously. "Why?" 

"Because she's got three guys looking out for her." He wrapped his arms around her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. Turning as one, the couple walked back into the kitchen to resume their breakfast. 

Sitting down at the table, Lorelai furrowed her brow. "You think they're still in love with her?" 

Chris poured himself another cup of coffee before replying. "I'm not sure about that, but I do know they care about her." 

They both glanced in the direction of their daughter's bedroom. The door was closed, and music was blasting from within, a sure sign Rory was angry and wouldn't calm down for at least another couple of hours. Lorelai shook her head. "I'm really worried about her, Chris. What should we do?" 

Leaning over, Chris clasped her hands reassuringly. "Give her time. She'll come around eventually."

* 

To Be Continued… 


	21. The Truth Comes Out At Last

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

*** **

**Cheers**

Chapter 21: The Truth Comes Out At Last 

"To Robert and Rory! Here's to our granddaughter and her fiancé, and may they have a lifetime of happiness together! Cheers!"

Suppressing the wry smile wavering on his lips, Jess forced himself to raise his glass of champagne and join in the toast to the couple. _A lifetime of happiness, huh? What a crock._

A considerable amount of time had gone by since he, Tristan and Dean had dropped their bombshell on the Gilmore family, and they were now in the home of Rory's grandparents Emily and Richard Gilmore, where a dinner party was taking place in honour of the fact the wedding was now only a week away. But seeing the smiles all around him, no one would have ever suspected that anything had changed. The Gilmore family were especially jovial that night, participating with extra zest in the night's celebrations despite the new unpleasant knowledge they'd been privy to a few days ago. Tristan was right about one thing: appearances really were everything in this social circle.    

"Having fun?" 

A voice to his left shattered Jess's ruminations, and snapping out of his thoughts, he put on his most charming smile. "I certainly am, Mrs Gilmore." 

"Good, good," Emily Gilmore patted him vaguely on the arm before sailing off to greet the other guests. "Try the lobster puffs; they're absolutely to die for!" 

Glancing about him, Jess sauntered over to the buffet table, where row upon row of finger foods were arranged neatly on shiny silver platters. Spying Tristan ahead of him, he playfully socked his friend in the arm. "Hey, you tried the lobster puffs yet? Word on the street is, they're absolutely–"

"–To die for? Yeah, they really are," Tristan spun around. Taking another bite of the lobster puff in his hand, Tristan smiled. "I have to admit, Emily Gilmore has excellent taste." He looked around. "Where's Dean?" 

"Oh, he's around," Jess gestured behind him absently. "He shouldn't be too hard to miss." Turning around, he scanned the room, and sure enough, he caught a glimpse of Dean towering over the other guests, looking just as uncomfortable in his suit as Jess himself felt. Raising an arm to wave Dean over, Jess downed the contents of his half-empty glass and then looked around. "Hey, where's the guy with the drinks?" 

"You mean, the _waiter_?" Tristan smirked, undeterred by the withering look Jess shot him. 

"Up yours, DuGrey." 

"Right back at you, Mariano." Shifting his gaze to Dean, he smiled with amusement. "So what have you been up to – mingling?" 

Dean shook his head, snatching some food off Tristan's plate. "Not quite. I'm actually trying to find a way to get the hell out of here." Stopping to take a bite of the finger food he was holding, he chewed energetically for a moment before raising his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Hmm, these lobster puffs are good."

"Yeah, we've been told," Jess paused long enough to snag another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, nodding his thanks as he did so. "This blows. How much longer are we supposed to hang around?" 

"I don't know," Tristan handed his plate to a nearby member of the waiting staff. "In about another hour, I guess." He was about to say something else, but then something caught his eye, and the expression on his face hardened. 

Turning to look in the same direction, Dean nodded knowingly when he realized what Tristan was looking at. "Yeah, I've been staying the hell away from _that_ side of the room all evening." 

"Let's go and talk to him," Jess unexpectedly suggested, drawing surprised glances from the other two. 

"_Why?_" Dean frowned, looking highly displeased with Jess's proposition. "What do you possibly have to say to that jackass?" 

"Actually, Mariano might be onto something," Tristan broke in, a contemplative look crossing his face. "We might be able to find out if he knows the Gilmores know what he's up to." 

"And we could let him know _we_ know what he's up to," Jess further explained, setting down his now-empty glass on to the buffet table behind him. "Get the picture?" 

"Yeah," Dean nodded, doing an about-turn and striding off in Robert's direction, Tristan and Jess hot on his heels. The trio wound their way through the crowd of well-dressed guests, each intent on only one thought, one objective: to confront Robert, who was deep in conversation with a bored-looking elderly gentleman off in a far corner of the room. 

Tristan was the first to reach Robert, and plastering a mild, friendly grin on his face, he managed to steal Rory's fiancé from the elderly gent, who looked exceedingly grateful for having been deprived of the groom-to-be. Keeping up a flow of trivial chatter, Tristan managed to distract Robert long enough to steer him to the relatively empty Gilmore foyer, where Dean and Jess were already waiting. 

"What's this?" Robert glanced questioningly from Tristan to Jess and Dean. "What's going on?" The expression of smug complacency on his face was replaced by one of genuine unease, which he tried to cover up by genially shaking hands with the other two. "So you three have decided to give me a pre-wedding pep talk, eh? I appreciate the thought." 

"That wasn't why we called you here, Robert," Jess said, smiling sardonically. "We know what you're doing."

Robert's face reddened. "What on earth are you talking about? I haven't the faintest idea of what you're trying to imply–"

Dean glared at the groom-to-be. "Cut the crap, Robert."  

"We know about the business merger," Tristan coolly interjected, narrowing his eyes at Rory's fiancé. "We know your family paid a fortune to cover up your past indiscretions. We know the real reason you're marrying Rory."

"So you know about my past, do you? Well done. Outstanding detective work, I must say." Robert presented them with another one of his haughty sneers. "But I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, fellows. Do you have any idea how much money I stand to gain from the merger?" 

Tristan held Robert's arrogant gaze with his own. "Billions of dollars." 

Robert nodded condescendingly. "Bingo, pretty boy. I guess your attending Harvard wasn't a complete waste of time after all, huh?" 

Tristan shot his rival one of his trademark smirks. "Yeah well, at least my folks didn't have to bribe the school to get me in." 

Anger burned in Robert's eyes as he frowned at Tristan. "One day you'll regret you ever said that, DuGrey." 

"And I promise I'll be waiting for that day with bated breath, Matheson," Tristan smiled mockingly, causing his opponent to bristle even further. The two men continued to stand facing each other, scowling as they did so. It became clear they would start throwing punches if someone didn't intervene soon.  

"Okay ladies, let's break up the little love fest, shall we?" Jess smoothly cut in, taking the edge off the animosity that still hung in the air. Stepping in between the two adversaries, Jess glanced at Robert casually, almost languidly. "I'd watch my step if I were you, Robert." 

Stepping away from Jess, Robert brushed himself off agitatedly, sneering disdainfully once again. "I think you have more to be worried about, Trailer Trash. You're just pissed off because I got the girl and you clowns didn't. That's what burns you up, isn't it?"  

Dean leapt forward just in time to restrain Jess. "Forget him, Mariano. He's just a worthless jackass, remember?" 

"That may be so, Bean Pole," Robert cocked a haughtily amused eyebrow at Dean. "But I'll be one very _rich_ jackass by the time I marry your precious Rory, and there is nothing you can do. Deal with it." 

"Watch it, Matheson," Tristan stepped forward, his voice steely. "You're going too far." 

Despite the look of triumphant bravado on Robert's countenance, he shrank back when he saw Tristan's blazing eyes. Attempting to dispel his fear, Robert squared his shoulders and smiled cockily. "Suck it up, guys. I'll marry Rory in a week, inherit half of her fortune, and everyone lives happily ever after. Or at least, _I_ will." He laughed gleefully as the other three valiantly struggled not to succumb to their fury, but then a noise in the doorway distracted all of them. Glancing up, they froze when they saw who was standing there.              

Rory Gilmore stood in front of them, her cheeks burning, her eyes fiery. If anything else, the anger Dean could see in her eyes only seemed to increase as her gaze travelled over the tableau. But when she spoke, her voice was deadly calm. "What's going on?" 

"Sweetie!" Robert sprang forward, eager to clear his name, and to ensure his fiancée hadn't overheard anything that had been said earlier. "Thank goodness you're here. Your _friends_–" and here he cast a sneer in the direction of Tristan, Dean and Jess, "–have been accusing me of all sorts of unmentionable things!" 

It was possible Robert simply didn't know his fiancée as well as he liked to think, or maybe he was just plain stupid, but to the other three men, the expression on her face said only one thing: _danger ahead._ "Really? Like what?" Her tone was cool, but her face said otherwise.  

Meanwhile, Robert was too busy warming up to notice. "They were trying to blackmail me, to stop me from marrying you. They accused me of wanting to marry you only for your money! That is simply preposterous!" 

"Is that so?" Rory smiled blandly. "It's funny you should say that, because I could have sworn I heard you say a few minutes ago that you _are_ marrying me for my money." She stared at her fiancé, and for a split second, it seemed to Dean, Tristan and Jess that they were looking at a younger version of Emily Gilmore, from the scowl right down to the unwavering gaze. 

Tristan coughed discreetly, momentarily catching Rory's attention. "I think the guys and I should leave you two alone. Unless you want us to stick around…?" 

"No, that's alright," Rory nodded firmly, but then her stern expression melted away fleetingly, to be replaced by one of warmth and gratitude. "And thank you." She watched as the three men walked away before she turned back to her fiancé, who was clearly starting on his descent into full-blown panic. Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin and smiled a hard little smile. 

"Well then Robert, I think it's about time you and I had a little talk."   

*** **

**To Be Continued…**


	22. The Gentlemen’s Agreement

**Disclaimer: The same applies. **

*** **

**Cheers**

Chapter 22: The Gentlemen's Agreement 

"Wow, that's one hell of a story. You sure you're not making any of it up?" 

"I swear it's all true." 

"Well…" Dave the barman drifted off, continuing to wipe the counter down. Finally, he shrugged and threw down the cloth in his hand. "Oh, what the hell, this round's on me." 

His three customers cheered, clinking their mugs on the counter rhythmically as they did so. One of men – the one with the dark curly hair and coffee brown eyes – grinned at the barman. "So Dave, you got any pretzels or something back there?" 

"I'm one step ahead of you, Jess." Filling three mugs to the brim with beer, Dave placed the drinks on the counter in front of him, along with an unopened bag of pretzels. "Knock yourself out." 

The trio seated at the bar were briefly silenced as they gulped down the contents of their mugs, and Dave leaned his elbows on the counter as he waited for them to finish. Once they were done, he looked at each of them expectantly. "Well?" 

Tristan glanced up at him, his brilliant blue eyes vaguely puzzled. "Well what?"

Dave shook his head. Was it just these three, or did all the young people in the area possess short attention spans? "So what happened next? You guys haven't finished telling me the story." 

"Oh! Right." Tristan smiled, comprehension dawning on his face. "Well, the wedding's been called off. Rory decided that getting married to Robert wasn't what she wanted after all." 

"Amen to that!" Pushing his straight dark hair out of his eyes, Dean raised his mug, and his two companions raucously joined in, cheering as they did so. 

Dave couldn't help smiling as he watched the young men. They could be exceedingly funny when they wanted to be, even more so when they were gloriously drunk. Retrieving the now-empty mugs from all three, the barman smiled. "Okay, that's enough for today." Handing each of them cups of strong black coffee, the older man shook his head benignly at the young men.   

"Pretzels! More pretzels!" Jess sang out, causing the other two to join in as well. 

"Geez, you kids are going to put me out of business real soon if you don't do something about your obsession with pretzels," Dave grumbled good-naturedly as he presented the men with individual packages. As the three dug into their snacks, Dean grinned crookedly at his companions. 

"I don't know about you, but the past few weeks have definitely been _interesting_ for me." Setting down his pretzels, he stared gravely at Tristan and Jess, who were far too engrossed in devouring their snacks to pay attention to him. "Hey! Guys! Hey!"  

"Yeah? What?" Tristan's head snapped around as he peered at Dean curiously. "What'd you say?" 

"I _said_," Dean's voice went up a few notches, "I said the past few weeks have been interesting. Don't you think so?" 

"Yeah, of course it has," Jess nodded enthusiastically. "I mean, we stopped Rory from making the biggest mistake of her life, and we kicked some major ass. Oh, and we had some really tasty lobster puffs too. Hey Dave, d'ya have any lobster puffs here?" 

"Nope, I just ran out," Dave managed to keep his amusement in check, shrugging regretfully instead. 

"Oh, damn," Tristan shook his head mournfully, peering intently into his now-empty snack bag. "I'm out of junk food." 

"Here, have some of mine," Jess leaned over and tossed his snacks over to his friend, all but smacking Tristan in the head with the pretzels in the process. "Whoo, that was a close one! You okay, buddy boy?"

"So…" Dave began wiping a couple of freshly cleaned mugs on the counter. "Rory Gilmore's free again, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. She is, isn't she?" Jess examined Dave thoughtfully, watching the bartender slowly making his way through the clean mugs. 

"Yeah," Tristan nodded meditatively. "Looks like it. What do you think, Dean?" 

"I'd say so," Dean sagely acceded. And for some unknown reason, the three of them exchanged inscrutable, conspiring grins. This wasn't lost on Dave, who had looked up just in time to catch the wordless exchange. 

Sensing the stirrings of a challenge between the three friends, he leaned against the counter. "What're you guys going to do now that Rory's free again?" 

The three swapped another round of knowing looks before raising their cups of coffee in a toast, grinning as they did so. "Here's to Rory Gilmore," Dean proclaimed, and they clinked their cups together solemnly. 

"Here's to all the shit that's happened in the past couple of weeks," Jess added. 

It was now Tristan's turn. The other two looked at him quietly as they waited for his contribution. And as always, he didn't disappoint. 

"May the best man win." 

*****

The End 


End file.
